


Songbirds Calling While Angels Are Falling

by Mothra



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Abuse, Action, Adventure, Columbia - Freeform, Death, F/M, Gore, Lemon, Romance, Spoliers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 117,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothra/pseuds/Mothra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Columbia. This city in the sky was supposed to be a heaven on earth. To you, it had become more like a hell. But for all the bad you encountered there, it sure did lead you to your fair share of angels. And one man in particular that haunted your dreams, like a ghost from some other time.</p>
<p>Booker X Reader<br/>Friendship!Elizabeth X Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Mothra here! First and foremost, I’d like to personally thank you for taking the time to read my story! I’ve put a lot of thought and work into developing it so far, and hope that it only continues to grow from here!
> 
> As such, there are some important things I’d like to address before you start the fic. So please, give this a quick read before you head on over to chapter one!
> 
> -Firstly, the world of Columbia is a very racist one. The whole city is swarming with bigoted, close minded, racist assholes. You, as a reader and character, will interact with said assholes quite a bit. Please note that NONE of the racist remarks or doings you may read in the fic are my personal opinions. NONE. OF. THEM. I tried my darndest to not make things too racist, but in a world like Columbia (which is pretty much founded on racism), it’s hard not to include. So I deeply apologize, and consider this a trigger warning. Know my intention is not to harm anyone’s feelings!
> 
> -I’d also like to trigger abuse, blood, weapons, gore, scary shit, and sexy times. All of those will be within this fic.
> 
> -Secondly, I am not a scientist of any kind and I know next to nothing about parallel universes and time travel (other than what I’ve learned from Doctor Who :P). Know that not everything you read will be accurate. I had to change some things around a bit to make them work for this fic, but for the most part, I didn’t stray too far from the original story line AT ALL (and I tried to keep things as accurate to the time as I could). I must have gone over Columbia’s timeline a trillion times to work everything out for this story. So again, I’m sorry if things are a bit jumbled or leave you going, “That doesn’t make sense!” or “That wasn’t in Bioshock Infinite!” I am trying the best I can, so bear with me.
> 
> Other than that, know that you actually won’t meet Booker for quite a few chapters, and for that matter, Elizabeth either. There will be a lot of familiar faces from the Bioshock Infinite universe in this fic, along with new ones. I also hope to do little side chapters along the way that deviate from the main story just a bit, as well as maybe add some CYOA elements down the line.
> 
> And finally, I definitely do not own Bioshock Infinite or anything related. That is all Mr. Ken Levine and Irrational games, bless them.
> 
> And there you have it, folks. I really hope you enjoy the tale I have woven for you! Now enjoy!

“Will you please stand up straight? You look so dreadful hunched over like that!”

Your mother had been constantly picking at you for the past hour. Yes, it has been one full hour you have been standing outside in the sweltering heat of summer, adorned in the frilliest, poofiest, heaviest, and hottest dress your mother could find at the store. You had spoken up several times about your disdain for the dress; its horrid frills dug into your body causing a constant itch. The stiff collar and tight sleeves limited your mobility. And, the deep olive color of it reminded you of the threadbare carpet you crashed upon during your mother and fathers final fight. All around, it was horrible.

“Mother, please,” you begged as your arm lifted to wipe the sweat from your brow, “It’s terribly hot and my legs are hurting, may I please sit in the shade for a bit?”

She caught your arm before the sleeve reached your forehead, and forced it back down to your side, “And ruin your beautiful new dress in the mud? I don’t think so, little miss. Besides, he will be here soon, and you will make sure to be at your most charming when he arrives.”

The warning tone in yours mothers voice halted any further dreams of the slightest bit of release from your situation. And the excitement and anticipation that shone in her eyes as she stared pointedly ahead towards the train station just made you feel even worse.

Very soon you would be meeting him.

~

Your father and mother split up when you were six years old, and you remembered every moment of it vividly. Your Father was a full blooded Irish man who came to America in search of a better life. Your mother came from a wealthy home, but was always in search of things bigger and better. They met by chance when your mother’s father offered your future father a job. Attracted by his drive and ambitious plans for the future, they fell in love, wed, and had two children, you and your elder sister, Katherine.

Early on in your life, you had an ideal childhood. You had loving parents and a sister who was also a best friend. There was always food on the table, and you wore nice clothes. But above all, the one that made you the happiest was your Father.

He was a strong man with a deep laugh the shook the floors and lit up the room. He was always full of the most colorful stories, and could always make you smile, even at your angriest. He taught you to love, and not discriminate, and that every human life mattered. When you fell and skinned your knee, it was your father’s strong embrace that you immediately ran too. When you and your sister awoke in the late hours of the night, scared of monsters hiding in the darkness, it was always your father you’d call to for aid. And, it was always he who would brandish candlesticks like swords and lead you on hunts for the hidden beasts, not stopping until you and your sister assured him that all had been slayed. When the neighborhood boys picked on you and your sister, it was always he who told you not to accept that, and give them what they deserved. Your father was everything to you.

But the good times were not destined to last.

When you were five years old, the business your father had been working so hard on, pouring all his savings and time into, went bankrupt. No matter how he tried, the business just wouldn’t get back up on its feet. At first, just little things changed. You started getting cheaper food in lesser quantities. The little gifts your father brought home every Friday for you and your Sister ended. Your mother went from buying the finest clothes for the family, to making them all by hand. These little things never bothered you a bit, but your mother was a completely different story.

Where in your father taught you to be free spirited and encouraged laughter and tale telling, your mother had a different approach to parenting. She was constantly telling you: “You and your sisters are young ladies, so act like it!” When you played too roughly, you got scolded. If you ran in the house, you got disciplined. When out in public, even if you were just playing with the neighboring children, you had to be dressed and done up at your finest at all times. And when spoken to, never ever forget your manners.

She wasn’t a bad person, and you loved her dearly, but that didn’t mean she didn’t anger and frustrate you. Whenever you would speak up to her, the answer was always, “Ladies need to know their place.” Or, “proper young women will never get anywhere acting like that.” Or her most favorite line, “How will you ever get a husband acting like such riff raff?” You learned early on that it was best to agree with your mother outwardly, and go along with what she said, or face a sore bottom and a two hour long scolding on how to be a proper lady. Quite honestly, you and your sister were much more interested in fighting shadow monster with your father than focusing on being “little ladies”.

Time went on and money became tighter and tighter. It began to greatly impact your mother. A woman who put so much into her looks and social standing was having a hard time dealing with the public’s speculation and gossip. Every questioning glance at you and Katherine’s patched up stockings, and every under breath snicker at your mother wearing the same dress twice in one week set her over the edge.

Your parents began to fight. At first a little, just small arguments behind closed doors that immediately ceased whenever you and your sister came in the room. But they kept growing and growing, until they got so loud and violent that the whole neighborhood could hear them. Parents in the neighborhood started keeping their children from you. Adults would turn away whenever you came near, even those who were very friendly to you before. It became increasingly obvious that the upper-society block you had lived on your whole life, was trying to shut you out.

They succeeded.

By the time you were six and a half, your whole family had to move from lack of money. You hopped place to place, to worse and worse environments. Your father started drinking and leaving for long absences of time. Many a night you went to bed hungry, you and your sister hiding in your small shared bed, clutching each other tightly as you listened to your parents relentless screaming in the next room over.

“GODDAMIT CIAN, IF YOU TOOK YOUR DAMN NOSE OUT OF THAT BOTTLE FOR TWO MINUTES YOU’D SEE HOW MUCH YOUR CHILDREN ARE SUFFERING FROM THIS!” Your mother’s shrill voiced pierced the air.

Your fathers let out a guttural, angry, laugh, “And what do you know of suffering, Abby? I have been suffering for YEARS for you! Doing grueling work day in and day out, and this is how I am treated? As a drunken FUCK UP? DON’T EVEN BEGIN TO BLAME ME FOR ALL OUR CHILDRENS SUFFERING! I SEE HOW YOU TREAT THEM!”

“Oh my, you see how I treat them?! And how is that, Cian? LIKE A PARENT? LIKE SOMEONE TO GUIDE AND TEACH THEM HOW TO PROPERLY BEHAVE? If that’s how they view me, than GOOD, at least I won’t be like YOU who only teach them to be foolish and waste time! It’s such a shame the strong male figure in their life turned out to be such a disappointment!”

The fighting was always like this, and would last most of the night.

“… Will this ever stop, Kat?” You would whisper to your sister in the darkness.

“It has to. Just be patient, things will get better!” She’d say, trying to sound brave, but the quiver in her voice would always betray her.

Your young life had become a constant war zone, and there was no happy ending in sight.

~

When you were seven years old, your parents had their final fight.

It had started out like any other fight they had. You had become so used to them at this point, you almost didn’t notice them. But early this faithful morning, something was very different. It was very late, about two in the morning, when you were awoken by a terrible crash, and an ear shattering scream.

Fearing the worst, you bolted from bed and into the next room over. Your mother was on the floor, surrounded by broken glass. She had fallen into the china hutch behind her, and it had shattered and splintered to pieces. Her hands and arms were covered in cuts, and you saw that her ankle was swollen and bruised, as if her foot had gotten caught when she fell. And then you saw her face. Her whole eye swollen shut and turning black, her lip burst open and gushing blood. In front of her stood your father, hands in tight fists, rearing to strike again.

“DADDY, STOP!” You screamed, running to your mother’s aide.

You were almost to her side when the blow hit you square in the side of your head.

The moments after that were a blur. You remember feeling pain, and then scenes coming in flashes. Your mother your name screaming. Your sister running in the room. Your father crying. Next, you were in his arms, the side of your head throbbing and damp, as was your left check. Your father was crying. “My God, what did I do? I’m sorry (your name). God, am I sorry. My little girl… Christ.” He was whispering between sobs into your hair. You could smell heavy alcohol on his breath. Your sister must have left to get help, because next thing you knew your next door neighbor and his wife were in the room with you. You saw the wife run to your mother’s side. Strong arms yanked you from your fathers. You saw your sisters tear stained face. People were screaming, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Your sister started clutching you and speaking to you, but all you heard were muffled murmurs. The world was going dark. Katherine was shaking you, but you didn’t respond. You welcomed the darkness.

~

You awoke a few days later in the hospital. Your grandmother was in the room with you, as was your sister. When they saw you open your eyes, smiles illuminated their faces.

“You are up!!! I was so worried!” Katherine exclaimed, her arms tightly embracing you.

“Katherine? Grandma? What happ-“ You began to ask, but stopped yourself as the memories flooded your thoughts. Your body started to visible shake.

“It’s OK, child,” your grandmother intervened, placing a warm hand on yours, “You are safe now, and all is well.”

“Where’s mother? How is she?!”

“She is in the next room over. She is recovering, too. All is well, do not fret.”

You were relieved to hear that, but there was someone else whom you were also concerned for.

“… And … Father?” Your voice shook.

Your grandmothers face turned grave, “He’ll get what he deserves.”

You felt tears fall from your eyes, “Gramma please, believe me, it was an accident! He didn’t mean to hurt mama and I! Please, believe me!”

“(Name), please. Don’t get worked up, you need your rest. Let the adults deal with the situation.”

The tone of her voice let you know that was as far as the conversation would go. You shut your mouth, and watched as your sister and grandmother left the room. You fell asleep crying.

~

Months passed. You and your mother’s wounds healed. Luckily, no lasting physical damage had been done, save for a small scar under your left eye. Your mother, sister, and you moved in with your grandparents. You found out later that as soon as your mother was well enough, she *divorced from your father, and signed all kinds of documents you didn’t quite grasp. All you understood about it was that he was never to come near you or the rest of the family again, and as such, you were not to speak of him.

The experience changed you and your sister. Things weren’t the same. Whenever you went out anywhere in public, people looked at you with such sad expressions. Whispers that were once mocking and taunting, took on an air of sadness and pity. You hated it. You hated it more than anything. You became more quiet and reserved. In your heart, you knew your father never meant to hurt anyone, and your heart ached to be with him every day. Your world had been torn apart, and each day you were gone from him you started to become more and more depressed. The games you used to love held no interest with you. The stories you once loved to hear, all just seemed old and unappealing. You were never hungry, and didn’t want to interact with other children, because they all just treated you with pity. The one person you did want company from was your sister, but even she was different. She started to act out all the time. The smallest things would make her incredibly angry. She’d yell at you. She’d blame your mother for the divorce. She’d lash out and hit and your grandparents. You knew it was just her trying to cope with all that had happened, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt you. But you let it happen, because you couldn’t bear to try and stop it. Finally, in a last ditch effort, your family sent her away to an asylum to be dealt with “professionally”. You both cried silently as you watched people in white uniforms struggle to carry her away. As the car drove off into the distance, your mother kneelt down to you and made you a promise.

“(Name), my littlest angel, this is all a test put before us by God. We will get through this, and we will flourish. Things are always darkest before the dawn.”

You nodded solemnly, not sure who to believe anymore.

~

Several years past, and over those years things slowly got better. You still lived with your grandparents and mother, and you had not seen your father in those years, but you were in correspondence with him through letters. This raised your morale greatly. Every Friday you’d run to the mail box, excited to see his handwriting staring back at you from within. He wrote of his new job, working in a mine. He said it was scary at times, but thoughts of you and your sister kept him going. He asked about you, and your sister, and your mother. He’d send you dried flowers and draw you pictures of birds. While you held his letters, you pretended you were holding his hand.

Your sister had also improved greatly, but instead of coming home after her treatments, she and your mother decided it was best she attended an all-girls boarding school. She also shared in multiple letters that she one day hopes of becoming a nun. In one particular letter she proclaimed, ‘You know dear sister, if these past troubled years have shown me anything it’s that God can get you through the toughest spots and is always forgiving. I want to devote my life to teaching people his love. It is my calling.’ You weren’t sure what to make of her decision, and you were sad to be so apart from her, but you were also over joyed by her happiness.

You began to feel like your old self again. You took interest in hobbies again, sewing being one that particularly caught your fancy (your grandmother taught you). You also learnt to read from your grandfather, and voraciously consumed every book he handed to you. From history to romance poems, you were interested in it all. You made friends with the kids in the neighborhood, and spent more time being social. Things were definitely looking up for you, and happiness had once more shed its light on you.

 

However, just as things were getting on track again, strange letters started popping up in the mailbox for your mother. You didn’t take much notice to them at first, until you realized your mothers increasing interest in them. At first, she just appeared amused. But then, as they kept coming, she started to respond to them, which caused more to come. As more time went on, she looked forward to them as much as you looked forward to letters from your father. You watched her face as she read them, and though you were young, you knew the look she had on very well. It was how she used to stare at your father. She was falling in love.

One day you asked your grandmother whom the person was writing her letters. She smiled, and responded, “An old flame of hers, my dear,” You didn’t understand her wording, so she added, “A young man who used to live around here that was always quite fond of your mother. It seems his fondness never faded.”

The thought that your mother could give her heart to someone who wasn’t your father caused your own heart to be heavy. You held resentment toward the fact that your mother moved on so quickly, while at the same time feeling guilty because you knew your mother deserved happiness, happiness this man was giving her with each letter. You worried about the relationship frequently, but assured yourself that nothing would most likely come of it.

You were wrong.

~

After several months of swapping letters, your mother began to go on trips, usually lasting the whole weekend. She, nor your grandparents, ever really filled you in on the details, but everyone would always get excited and full of glee when she went off on these trips. One time, your grandmother even remarked that “You may have a real father figure in your life soon!” The comment angered you, but you chose not dwell on, figuring again that nothing real would come of the relationship.

~

It was a sunny afternoon in early summer. You were seven years old. You were sitting in the living room, reading your favorite book. It was one of the few books that weren’t from your grandparents, and the only material possessions you had from your father. You were perfectly content, sprawled out, nose in book, and eating fresh baked snicker doodles off a small yellow plate with decorative blue birds lining the rim. All was well when your mother burst in the room, slightly disheveled from her trip, bags still at hand, and huge encompassing smile in her face.

“(Name), my dearest angel and sweetest girl, today is a day of pure joy and happiness! Rise and celebrate with me!”

“Mama, I don’t under-“before you could finish, your mother took you by surprise by scooping you off the floor and twirling you in the air. It was so uncharacteristic of her that you couldn’t help but let out a wallop of laughter, of which she did not hush.

“What’s going on in here?” Your grandmother entered the room, rubbing the suds of still soaking dishes off her hands.

“We are celebrating mother!” Your mom exclaimed, setting you down on the floor, proceeding to tickle your belly.

Your grandmother smiled. ”Why, I haven’t seen you this happy in years! What could possibly boost your spirits so high?”

It was then that your mother flashed a diamond ring. Dazzling and bright, the stone caught and reflected the light of the sun, splashing it around the room. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“He offered, and I said yes. I am soon to be a Missus once more!”

~

~Presently~

Your eighth birthday had just past, and you were still wondering how you got stuck getting such a horrid dress for a present when the train FINALLY arrived.

Your mother grabbed your arm, “It’s here!!! (Name), he’s here! Remember dear child, manners!”

You weren’t paying much attention to her fretting though, as you were doing some fretting of your own. Your mother was engaged, and incredibly happy. You didn’t want a new father, nor would you ever really consider any man other than your real father your father, but you kept these opinions to yourself. Your mother was purely happy, something she hadn’t been for years, and you were not going to mess that up for her. And besides, you never even met this man, for all you knew, he could be as great as your family said he was. At least, you had no reason to believe otherwise. You had heard nothing but good things about him from everybody. Your grandparents gushed about what a great entrepreneur he was (whatever that meant) and your mother only went on about how wonderfully he treated her. But you also knew he was incredibly important, and that a lot was riding on you to make a good impression. He was, after all, to be your “father”.

People started piling out of the train, while you and your mother watched from the sidelines like hawks. Though you had never seen him in the flesh, your mother showed you pictures of the two of them together, and you were frantically racking your young brain to come up with every little detail you could remember about him to help seek him out easier. In your searching you got distracted by a lady with a large frilly hat holding a baby. The baby was leaning over a trashcan, his goal: a half-eaten hotdog sitting right on top. His small, chubby hand was almost to the dog when your mother’s voice broke your concentration.

“There he is,” She exclaimed, waving a finely embroidered hander kerchief (a gift from the man himself) his way, “Yoo hoo! Darling, we are here!”

Your eyes snapped up, and what seemed like no time, a tall imposing figure was in front of you. Dressed to the nines in an incredibly nice suit, and topped with a very stylish top hat, he was a little pudgier than you’d thought he’d be, and he smelled of sweat and overbearing cologne. He leaned over and kissed your mother on the cheek.

And there he was, your new father. Jeremiah Fink.

~

*So, divorce actually wasn’t even a thing back in the 1800’s to early 1900’s. If you were married and unhappy, you were just kind of stuck there. But for the sake of the story, a divorce had to happen. Remember when I told you not everything would work together perfectly? Prime example!

 

AN: So, your dad is Jeremiah Fink. Yes, it’s as bad as it sounds, and yes, things will get much worse for you before they get better. I apologize! :


	2. Jeremiah FInk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah Fink certainly wasn't father material, or for that matter, a human being you wanted anything to do with. But your mother was smitten, and so he became part of your everyday life. Each day with him was a day you wish you could forget...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, here I come with chapter two! This one is a tad shorter than the chapter prior, but it is a necessary chapter none the less! :D
> 
> I'd like to give a shout out and a huge thank you to all the people who read, reviewed, and favorited my story! You guys are all the absolute best, and I give you my love and thanks! I hope to keep on making you happy, and the journey will just get more intense from here! >:D
> 
> Without further ado, here is chapter two!

It didn’t take long for you to decide that you hated Jeremiah Fink.

“My beauty and my muse,” he spoke to your mother in between kisses, as you watched his cartoonish facial hair brush against her soft cheeks, “how grand it is to finally be in your presence! You wouldn’t believe the horrid accommodations they gave me on that train. ‘First class seat’ they called it, but honestly, it mine as well have been coach! The seat was hard as stone, I was entirely too close to the other riders, most of which looked as if they escaped from the zoo, and the way the coloreds handled my baggage made my skin crawl!”

“Oh dear, that is horrible news! I am so sorry! That railroad company is supposed to be the best in all of New York, how awful to find out how they truly treat people!” Your mother cooed in response.

You couldn’t figure out what was worse. Fink’s attitude towards those he deemed “lesser”, or your mother’s response to his reactions.

“Well, no matter, my love! They shall get what they deserve, believe me,” Fink exclaimed in a matter you could only classify as ‘devilish’, “Now, shall we be on our way, my dear?” He said as he began to walk off.

“Dearest, wait! Someone else has come to greet you!”

Fink turned around, and your mother edged you towards him. You had always been shy around people you didn’t know, especially adults. You were sweating even more than you had originally, and your hands gripped tightly to your dress. You didn’t dare stare into his eyes for too long, because even just FEELING his judging gaze was too much for you. After a few shaky steps, you quietly spoke.

“Hello, Mister Fink. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Ah, you must be (mispronounce of your name),” he stated stepping closer to you, “What a pretty girl you turned out to be, seeing as your father… Well, seeing as he is a drunkard paddy.” He finished his sentence with an air of disgust in his voice.

Your shyness began to drain from your body, and instead was replaced with growing anger. You had waited two hours in the sweltering heat to have this man not notice you, mispronounce your name, AND say such disrespectful things about your father?

“It’s (name) not (however the hell Fink pronounced it). And I’d like it if you please didn’t speak of my father that way again.” You spook as firmly as your shaking voice would allow.

Fink’s expression turned from shock to a hard, cold gaze, “Well, I can see that you have some spirit in you, child. It’s… amusing, but not at all ladylike.”

“Darling, please,” Your mother interjected, “She didn’t mean to be so rude! She is just so nervous about meeting you that she lost herself and didn’t know what to say!” Her total support of Fink made your heart ache.

“My dearest Abigail, it is alright! I cannot completely blame the poor child, seeing as she is half Irish. Nor do I blame you for making the choice to breed with such an undesirable! You were young and blinded by a paddy’s silver tongue, but eventually, your life choices lead you back to me, which is all that matters! It is just such a pity that such a pretty girl had to be born a half breed,” he sighed, and then gave you a fiendish smile before continuing, “nevertheless, when I become your father you can be sure that I shall set you right child! Mister Jeremiah Fink will make a proper lady out of you yet!” He finished by patting your head a little too roughly, as if you were a dog that needed to be trained.

~

As time passed, your relationship with Fink only got worse. Though he was gone on frequent work related jobs, Fink’s power over your house and family was a constant threat. His rules were implemented immediately after your mother wed him. You were only to speak when spoken to. There was to be no laughter or playing inside of the house. Always address him as ‘sir’ or ‘Mister Fink’. If he found any toys lying out of place, they would be immediately disposed of. The same went for letters from your father (which you had to take from the postman as soon as they arrived and hide them). If you were not doing house chores, you were to be studying. If you were doing neither, you would be beat. If you broke any of the rules, you would be beat. Needless to say, his beatings came often, and hard. After just a few short weeks, you felt nothing but absolute fear for this man.

Early in the relationship, even though your family was smitten with him, they were quite opposed to how he treated you. They questioned his methods, but he always had a sugared speech up his sleeve to brainwash your loved ones.

“My dear family; do you not feel pity for this child?” He’d smile sweetly at them, “Do you not see the raging Irish animal inside her, fighting to get out? Can you not see her future? One filled with booze and brothels, where she is treated as a dog? A horrible thought, is it not? Well, that is why I do what I do! If you keep her mind busy with work and study, and set her straight with discipline when she behaves silly or speaks out, then she will learn that path is the wrong path! You must always correct her, or else she will grow up lost and abused. And I would never want that for such a sweet, poor miss as (name)!”

You were powerless in Finks grasp.

Three weeks after first meeting him, your mother and Fink were married. The night they wed, you cried yourself silently to sleep.

~

It was a sunny spring day, and you were walking home from school. Your mother and Fink had been married almost a year at this point, and it had been one of the worst years of your life. You always walked as slow as you possibly could when going home and each step closer to your house felt more and more heavy. You couldn’t help but imagine that this is what a prisoner feels like when he is led to his cell for the first time. You pitied them silently, and tried to cheer yourself up by finding animals in the clouds. You had found a rabbit, cat, donkey, and lizard by the time you made it to your front steps. “I wish I could drift away with you.” You whispered to them sadly, as you turned the knob and entered.

What greeted you inside totally threw you off guard. Your mother and Fink were standing in the front hall, hugging and conversing with your grandparents. They were dressed exquisitely in what looked to be traveling clothes. At finks feet were three small suitcases. This wouldn’t normally be strange, your mother and Fink traveled many times before, except that you noticed your suitcase amongst the pile. Confused, you approached the adults quietly.

“Excuse me… But, what is going on? Are you headed on a trip?”

The group turned to look at you, a beaming smile spread across their faces.

“(Name), not just a trip, we are moving!” Your mother exclaimed, glancing up at Fink, who was glaring down at you smugly.

“Moving?” Confusion was dripping from your voice.

“Yes, and not just anywhere my dear,” Fink added, “Your new home will be Columbia!”

You froze, “… Columbia?” You had never heard of such a place before, but saying it allowed caused a tight feeling in your chest.

“Yes, that is correct,” Fink continued, “Columbia is a glorious city unlike any other! It is a city where there is nothing but beauty, opportunity, and joy! I have established myself there and made it my home and have done nothing but thrive! I know my new family will be happy there, too, I promise.”

“But… Where is Columbia? I’ve never read about it or learned of it in school…”

Fink laughed, “Well child, you see, you haven’t learnt of it because it’s still up and coming.”

“Apparently it is still in construction, which is why your father has never taken us to see it and why he leaves on so many trips,” Your mother added in (how you hated when she called Fink ‘Father’), “This whole time, he has been helping found a city! Isn’t it marvelous, my little angel?! But now it is nearing completion, and ready for us to move in and start a new life! (Name) it will all be so grand!”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand… When was this decided? Why was I not told?”

“We’ve all been talking about it quite a bit since the marriage,” your grandmother spoke up, “we didn’t bring it up to you because we didn’t want to disturb you or cause you any alarm. Though we encouraged your mother to start off life anew on her own with you and Mister Fink, we didn’t believe any actual moving would be happening for quite some time,” It was then you noticed your grandparents poufy, tear stained faces, “You moving today came as much of a surprise to us as it does to you, little bird!”

“Today?! We are leaving today?!” Things were all moving so fast you began to feel light headed.

“Indeed,” Fink spoke, “In fact, as soon as you get dressed we will be on our way!”

You felt the burn of tears well up in your eyes, “But… but… We can’t just leave! What about school? What about my friends? What about Kat?” What about father?

“You will get fine schooling in Columbia, do not fret,” Fink responded, placing his large sweaty hand on your head, “And there will be plenty of children there for you to befriend!”

“And your father and I visited Katherine earlier,” Your mother added in, “And I begged and pleaded for her to join us… But she wouldn’t come. She told me her faith was leading her down a different path, and she had to answer its calling,” Your mother noticed you beginning to cry and wrapped you in an embrace, “oh my angel, I know it is sad. I desperately wanted her with us as well. But she is a young woman now, and the covenant is taking very good care of her.”

“Can I visit her at least,” You sniffled, “After we move in? And write her?”

“Of course, my child, you may stay in touch with all the people you hold dear.” Fink flashed you one of his hard to read smiles. His smiles always had a way of making you feel unease.

“…Promise?” You whispered to your mother, staring into her eyes.

“I promise.” She whispered back, and for a second you saw a glint in her eye. Was it sadness? Regret? Or was she lying to you? It happened too quickly to tell.

“Oh enough of these sad faces,” Fink intervened, “Hurry dear, and get her dressed! If we don’t hurry, we will be late and they may leave us behind!”

And with that, your mother whisked you upstairs, and hurriedly began to dig through your dresses. As she did, you took the rare opportunity to talk to her away from Fink’s prying ears.

“Mother?” You asked meekly.

“Yes, dearest?” She responded, pulling out one of your favorite dresses; soft (color) trimmed in a lovely (color) lace.

“… Do you really want to move?”

She stopped rustling about for a second, and turned to look at you, “(Name)…,” She sighed heavily and walked over to you, “I know you are scared. Truth told I am, too. But this town… it’s nothing but bad memories for me AND you. Your father is offering a fresh start in a fresh place, something we both desperately need. I know you love so many things here, and that this neighborhood is dear to you, but don’t be afraid of change, love. Columbia, wherever it may be, I’m sure is perfect and we will be happy there.”

“… I hope so,” You whispered, fighting back tears, “But mother, why do we have to leave so suddenly? What about my things? Are we really only taking those three little bags?”

“Apparently, that’s all we need. Your father said in Columbia, he can get us brand new everything, and the finest, at that!”

‘Of course he did.’ You thought to yourself, but said nothing else. You could tell the conversation was over. Your mother hurriedly swapped out your dresses, and did your hair up in an impressive bow, humming happily all the while. After you were ready to go, she gave you a bit of alone time to gather anything left in your room that you would want in your new home. Your eyes passed sadly over your dolls and stuffed bears, your favorite dresses and accessories. Your eyes landed on the book from your father, and you snatched it up and tucked it away instantly.

“I’m sorry, everyone. I would take you all with me if I could,” you sighed sadly to your stuffed menagerie, “But here’s to the hopes of one day seeing you again.”

You walked out of your old bedroom, never to return to it again.

 

A/N: Everything is sad in your life right now, and I apologize. :( But on the bright side, you get to go to Columbia in the next chapter, and meet another familiar face (who also just happens to be a fan favorite and one of my personal favorites ;D)! Thank you for reading, and stay tuned for chapter three!


	3. Columbia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you reach the city in the sky...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Deep breath* OK guys, from here on out we are getting into the real meat of the story. I’m pretty nervous about it, and I’ve had to re-write and re-think a lot of stuff up to this point and beyond. But it’s all for the better! Also, we are creeping up on Elizabeth, finally getting to Columbia, and there is a pretty cool lady in this chapter! ;D And also, thank you so much for all the favorites, reviews, and kudos! You guys are the best, no lie.
> 
> So with that in mind, carry on reading!

You were incredibly confused as to why you were in row boat, huddled next to your mother, in the pouring rain, surrounded by nothing but angry gray skies and even angrier seas.

“Darling,” your mother shouted to Fink (who was the one stuck begrudgingly rowing), “Maybe we should head back until the weather is nicer?”

“Nonsense,” He responded roughly, “We are already late! Damn this weather! I can see the smug look on that wenches face already…”

You had no idea who fink was talking about, or where you were headed, but you did know that your mother was just as surprised (and slightly horrified) as you were when you arrived at the dock after traveling all the way to *Maine with nothing but a tiny row boat to take you all away. You shivered, and hugged the bright yellow rain slicker tighter to your body, though it did little to guard you from the cold and wet that was pelting you from every angle. You sighed, and thoughts traveled to your family.

‘I wonder what Kat is up to right now. Is she worried for me? Most likely. What would she be saying if she were here with me, I wonder? She’d probably be laughing at Fink’s dismay,’ a fraction of a smile crept on your face, ‘and what about papa? He’s worried for me, I’m sure. As soon as I get wherever it is we are going, I am writing him a letter right away!’

“FINALLY, we’re just about there!”

Fink’s words shook you from your thoughts, and your eyes darted up to see what he was talking about. Again, you were left with nothing but confusion when all you saw ahead of you was a large lighthouse. Surely this lighthouse wasn’t Columbia, the beautiful awe-inspiring city? Maybe it was behind the lighthouse? But wouldn’t that just be the ocean? This whole journey was making your head hurt.

As your party rowed closer and closer to the lighthouse, you saw a solitary person standing on the dock waiting for your arrival. When you got even closer, you noticed they were female. You realized this must be the woman Fink kept bringing up. This idea was validated when your boat finally reached the lighthouse.

“You are late.” The woman stated plainly, a slight accent to her voice. She stood stoically, even though obscuring rain was coming down hard and fast, and her manner was calculating. Frankly, she made you rather nervous, and being an acquaintance of Fink you didn’t know how good of a person she could be. But her face was quite lovely, and the way she gave Fink an uninterested stare (as if he weren’t worth her time of day) did please you.

“Ah, please forgive us for being late,” Fink said a little too jovially, as he hoisted your baggage out of the boat “But you know how it is with ladies, must make sure they are done up at all times, and taking all the time in the world to do so! And well, with two of them-“

“Two?” The woman cut off Fink, her interest seemed suddenly peaked.

“Why yes, two,” Fink spoke again, annoyance lining his words as he helped your mother out of the boat, and then hoisted you out as well, “Miss Rosalind Lutece, may I introduce my lovely wife, Missus Abigail Fink, and our daughter, (Name).”

Rosalind’s gaze fell on you hard. She was peering at you so intently, that it felt as if she was reading your every thought and scanning your soul. You know you should have felt nervous or frightened by this gesture, but for some reason, the longer she stared at you, the more relaxed you became. In fact, you felt a sort of odd kinship to her. You looked her in the eyes, and smiled slightly. Though she didn’t return your smile, her features lightened considerably.

“How very interesting,” She muttered, “I will have to fill my brother in on this turn of events. It is quite the honor to meet you, miss (Name).”

Your smile grew wider. No one had ever told you they had been honored to meet you before.

“Pardon me miss,” your mother interjected, pulling you closer to her protectively, “but if I may be so bold to ask, why are you here, exactly?”

Rosalind’s gaze feel back to its seemingly default bored expression as she glanced up at your mother, “What an odd question. I’m here to take you to Columbia, is that not obvious?”

You felt your mothers grip on you tighten, and just knew that Rosalind was rubbing her entirely the wrong way. Your mother had never been fond of people blowing her off and she REALLY hated it when she asked questions, and didn’t receive a complete answer. You just knew something bad would come out of her mother next, but before she could respond Fink interrupted.

“My dears, I’m sorry to not give you more information about our travels, but you must understand! Columbia is… Well, she is a fresh idea; so many people don’t understand her yet! I couldn’t run the risk of filling you in with all the details in the off chance that some undesired ears may be listening in. You will see and experience countless new and exciting things from here on out, so forgive me for not always explaining thoroughly before you encounter them. In fact, many are much better learnt once you experience them, as opposed to just me boringly telling you. And the others, well… That’s why Miss Lutece is here! To be honest, I’m not quite positive how the marvels she’s brought to us work entirely, but by the prophet, do they work! She is the key to getting us to Columbia, and how she does it will astonish you.”

Your eyes turned to Miss Lutece, who seemed thoroughly uninterested in what Fink was spouting, which you began to realize really WAS her default expression, “Yes, well, shall we get going? Enough time has been wasted and your prophet is eagerly awaiting your arrival, I’m sure.”

Fink nodded to the woman, and she began to head towards the lighthouse. You followed in tow, with your Mother and Fink close behind. The whole while your eyes stayed focused on Rosalind. She was so young, but so incredibly smart and worldly. And why did she seem so surprised by you, you wondered? The way she looked at you in such a scrutinizing matter confused you, but also excited you.

“Miss (Name), was it?” She spoke to you over her shoulder, cutting you away from your thought.

“Uh, y-yes Ma’am, that’s me!” Her words took you by surprise.

“How old are you?”

“I’m nine years old, Ma’am. I just had my birthday about a month and a half ago.” You weren’t sure why, but talking to Rosalind made you giddy, and you couldn’t help but smile brightly at her.

“Hm, nine, you say? That was the exact age I decided on becoming a physicist.”

“Wow, really? What an incredible profession to pick! …To be honest, I have no idea what I would like to be when I grow up.”

“Well, it is nothing to fret over. I can assure you that in Columbia, much is in store for you... And here we are!” Your group had it made it to the lighthouse doors.

The way she spoke so knowingly made you want to fire off dozens of questions her way, but you found yourself nothing but silent as you stared into the gaping doors of the lighthouse.

The sight in front of you was perplexing, to say the least. The inside of the lighthouse looked like any normal lighthouse would, except for one major difference. In the middle of the room, floating in mid-air was what you could only describe as a large **hole in the interior of the building. Eerily, it hovered, emanated small humming noises. Around the circle, everything looked the same, and through the circle, things also looked much the same… except that the world beyond was gray, and the way the light shone in the room made the weather seem sunny. How could that possibly be with such a roaring storm happening outside?

“What is God’s name is going on here?!” Your mother shrieked, horrified.

Fink laughed, “My dear, please, do not fear! This this marvel before you is the key to your future!”

“I don’t understand,” Your mother responded, still horrified, “What is it? What is going on?!”

“This,” Rosalind intervened, “Is what I call a tear. Quite simply, it is a portal to leading you from one plane of reality, to the next. You haven’t heard of it or seen anything of the sort yet, because it simply hasn’t been discovered in this time yet.

“Tears?! Portals?! What the hell are you blabbering on about?” You mother was getting more and more panicked, and her composure was beginning to slip.

Rosalind sighed, “You really are over reacting. I’ve told you all you need to know, in that that tear you are so concerned about will lead you to where you want to go. Now, Missus Fink, I suggest that if you want to get to Columbia, you better control your hysterics. This tear, though it may look foreign and even slightly menacing, is for the most part safe. It is also the only way to get you where you need to go.”

“For the most part safe?! Now look here, you wretched-“

“ABIGAIL, PLEASE,” Fink shouted, placing himself firmly in front of your raging mother, “Miss Lutece is absolutely correct. I’ve traveled via these tears many a time to come visit you, and look at me! Am I not whole and healthy? Please, control yourself.”

Your mother, though still on edge, began to instantly calm under his words, “… Well… alright. I apologize, Miss Lutece, but you must understand how frightening these tears of yours are to someone who has never seen anything like this in their lives.”

“Duly noted”, Rosalind responded boredly, “Now, are we ready to finally depart? Remember Fink that my brother is who is controlling this tear back at our labs, and he cannot keep it open forever.”

With a nod of Finks head, Rosalind sauntered over to the hanging circle, and climbed right through it, instantly turning her monochrome. You and your mother’s mouth’s dropped in disbelief at the events transpiring before you.

“Don’t just stand there catching flies, hurry along you lot. I wasn’t joking when I said this tear won’t stay open forever, and we will not forge a new one for you.” Rosalind spoke, her voice coming clearly through the void. She finished by extending her hand to you.

Dropping all inhibitions, you eagerly ran to her as your mother gasped loudly of disapproval. How exciting and wonderful it felt to be galloping full speed towards such a strange new adventure! For that brief moment, your life was carefree. You didn’t think about your mother, father, or Fink. You weren’t weighted down by the burdens of your past, and you weren’t in a constant state of dread-filled fear over what would come next. Seeing Rosalind getting closer and closer made your whole body glow with joy.  
And then, you were right next to her.

You looked all around you, but nothing seemed different. The lighthouse was the same and your body was the same, or so it all seemed. It was indeed brighter on this side of the tear, but other than that, things outwardly all appeared unchanged. And though everything seemed normal, and you were beginning to feel like everything was all wrong. After just seconds of going through the tear, your head started to hurt and everything appeared to you like it was spinning, though you knew you were stationary. You held your hand to your chest, and felt your heart beating too rapidly, and it was getting hard to breathe. Were you just excited? Yes, that had to be it… right?

“My heavens, (Name), are you alright?!” Your mother’s frantic voice pulled you out of your daze. You looked up to see now that she was right on the other side of the tear, looking worriedly at you.

“Um… yes, I… I feel OK. I mean, I think everything is fine.” You tried your best at sounding convincing, and knew that you failed miserably.

“See darling, all is well,” Fink chimed in, side stepping your mother and in doing so, coming through the tear himself, “And now, all you must do is take one small step, and our dream future can begin.”

He held his hand out to her, and she looked at it with eyes full of fear for what seemed like several minutes. You knew you should say something to her to try and quell her fear, to make her feel like this whole trip was all a grand idea. But honestly, the more time past the sicker you felt, as if this foreign new world you entered was trying as hard as it could to tell you that you didn’t belong there. Your whole life was scattered with moments where you felt out of place, but never this violently. You were just as scared, if not more so, than your mother was.

After a few more moment’s hesitation, her shaky hand grasped his and your mother joined with you past the threshold. Rosalind let out a small sigh of relief and you heard her mutter something undistinguishable under her breath as she saw to the tear closing. Your weary eyes kept close watch as the tear grew smaller and smaller and finally shrank into nothingness. You had never felt so trapped in your entire life.

“See, now was that so hard,” Fink heartily laughed, clamping his hands on you and your mother’s shoulders briskly, “Now begins your new life! You must be so excited, for I was too, when I first traveled to Columbia! Now, miss Rosalind, if you’d be so kind as to lead the way.”

Rosalind nodded, “Follow me.” She stated, and started making her to the top of the lighthouse.

You began to shuffle along after her when your mother halted you, and kneeled down so that she was eye to eye with you, “(Name), are you sure you are alright? You look so flushed, my sweet girl.”

“Of course, mama, I’m just excited is all!” It was hard to lie in your mother’s face, especially when you knew how concerned she was. You were also worried she wouldn’t buy your act, especially when her gaze lingered on yours. But she just sighed and stood, and then she too began to follow Rosalind.

~ 

After several flights of steps, your group emerged outside to a beautiful, sunny day. Rosalind wandered off to mess with a peculiar looking lock, of which lead to the light of the lighthouse. Why a light needed to be so heavily locked was beyond you, but you had more perplexing things to worry about. Most noticeably how the weather went from raging to pleasant in a matter of minutes.

“How did it get so sunny so quickly,” You asked, grabbing the handles along the walkway for support. The walk up the stairs did little for your spinning head and frantic heart, and now watching the ocean, you could add queasy to your list of ailments.

“Child, please,” Fink answered, “That was your old world. The tear transported you to your new world. And look! The sun is here to greet you as if it is happy you made the right decision!”

Though you still were in the dark about pretty much everything, you simply nodded weakly at him. You were in no mood to get scolded if you asked him to elaborate further.  
Your mother smiled, “Well, I am sure happy to see the sun, I feel-“

She was cut off by an incredibly loud horn which shook the whole lighthouse. You screamed, and fell to your knees, grabbing onto the handles for support. Your mother ran to you, and clutched you closely to her. The horn kept sounding, and with it, an immense red light lit up the whole sky. 

“Mama, what is going on?!” You shuddered, fear stricken.

“Jeremiah, what is this?!” Your mother screamed as her voice cracked.

“Please, clam yourselves,” Rosalind’s eerily soothing voice cut through the horns and bells, “We are letting Columbia know that we are getting ready to arrive.”

“What?” Your mother responded harshly, making Rosalind sigh with annoyance.

“See for yourself.”

She stepped aside, and the horn, bells, and lights all stopped. In its place, the light of the lighthouse whirred around and lifted up out of the way to reveal a large platform. From that platform sprang three chairs.

You stared, wide eyed, “I… I don’t believe it!”

“Believe it or not, this is your ride to Columbia,” Rosalind stared dead ahead, her expression impossible to read.

Without a moment to spare, Fink grabbed you from behind, and swung you around until he planted you firmly in one of the seats. His quick motions nearly put your stomach at its limit, and you cursed him in your head. You almost wish you had thrown up on him, it would have served him right.

“All aboard, darlings,” He called cheerily, hustling your mother into her own seat, “There shall be no more time wasting. Next stop is Columbia!”

With that, he plopped himself in his chair, and gave Rosalind a nod of his head, “God speed.” She uttered, as tight iron restraints clamped your feet and wrists down. You began to panic as you watched Rosalind walking away briskly. The clamps were so tight that you had no room to even budge. A foreign voice started speaking at you from somewhere, and huge metal walls began to close in around you, making you feel even more helplessly trapped. You struggled hard, metal biting into your flesh. This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

“I don’t understand,” Came your mother’s terrified voice as flames started shooting down below your feet, “What is going on?! Is this lighthouse turning into some kind of boat?!”  
Fink laughed, “Not a boat, my dear, but a flying machine!”

No sooner had he said the words than the ship began to rocket into the air. The pressure hit your body hard, and you tried to scream, but your throat could produce no sound. In the distance, you heard the same haunting voice counting how high in the air you were going. The machine you were in didn’t seem fully up the task of rocketing you all into the heavens, as it creaked and shook violently the higher you climbed. You closed your eyes tightly as tears forced themselves from your eyes and freely cascaded down your face. Your thoughts were plagued by images of the ship falling and being torn apart, your body being thrown to the ground, still held tightly by those harsh clamps. You would have no chance of survival. You would plummet and drown in the ocean, or plummet to earth and be smashed by the falling debris. Who would come to your funeral? You were too young to die!

You were so caught up in your morbid thoughts you didn’t realize that the ship had stopped plummeting up into the air and had instead begun to gently float. You wouldn’t have noticed either, if Finks voice hadn’t pulled you back to reality.

“Welcome to Columbia!”

Your eyes slowly blinked open, and when they were adjusted, you were breathless at what they saw. A whole floating city met your gaze, and the word beautiful was too weak a way to describe it. Tall buildings and whole street blocks, floating zeppelins, and giant monuments surrounded your ship, all of them suspended in midair. You squinted and saw children playing in the streets. Ladies and gentleman walking gaily, arm in arm. You saw a sweet shop, and a bookstore. A thriving world, drifting carefree, thousands of feet in the air! It was like something out of a dream, and for the first and only time ever, you were glad Fink was in your life and you were happy you went with him. Though you were too stunned to speak, a huge, glowing smile engulfed your face. Columbia was astonishing.

“Oh darling,” Your mother cooed, “This is… This is unbelievable! And so gorgeous! I never in a million years would have imagined this would exist! It’s like heaven!”

Fink smiled, “EXACTLY like heaven! It is perfect here, my girls, and you will be nothing but happy! I mean, what is more fit for two angels than a city in the clouds?”

You could hold in your excitement no longer, and exclaimed, “Mama, look at this marvelous place! I see so many fun places! I see a sweet shop, and a book store, and all kinds of children at play! All in this floating city! Mama, may we go to the sweetshop, soon? Do you think they have cinnamon swirls? What about lemon drops?! As soon as we land may I check, oh pretty please?! May we go everywhere, I cannot wait-“

“(Name), my dearest,” Your mother caught you off guard with her stern voice, and your eyes turned from Columbia to her own worried orbs. It was amazing how quickly they took away your elation.

“What is it,” You asked quietly, fearful of a scolding, “Was I being too loud? Forgive me, I am just so excited.”

She shook her head, “No darling, it isn’t that. I am thrilled that you are so happy! It’s just that… your nose... It’s bleeding.”

~

*Maine is quite aways from New York, so you guys took a night train to get there. Just a little detail I didn’t think was too terribly necessary to put in this chapter. :D

**OK, so let me explain. The Lutece device is pretty much what controls the tears in the Bioshock Infinite world (other than Elizabeth and her powers), hence you needed the Lutece’s to get you to Columbia. I could have approached this a lot of ways, and quite honestly, I’m certain this isn’t how tears work. From what I understand, excluding what Elizabeth does, tears either pop up randomly (like when citizens of Columbia stumble upon them) as a side effect of the siphon, or the Luteces manufacture them in their lab. I don’t really think that they can just make them pop up as perfect little portals wherever (at least while they are “alive”, that is) they want. BUT, for the sake of the story, this is how it had to work. I rewrote a big chunk of this chapter quite a few ways, so I hope it all makes sense and people aren’t too confused… Have I mentioned writing this fic hurts my brain a bit? :P Also, I could have made you just go through the portal and end up in Lutece labs as your entrance into Columbia, but I like the flying ship much better. It’s how Booker and the player first see Columbia, so that’s how I wanted it for you as well! :D

A/N: Columbia! Finally we are here! But what about that nose of yours? :/ More to come, thank you so much for reading! :D


	4. Comstock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your take your first steps into the city in the sky, and meet the man whom created it all; Father Comstock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! Here we are with chapter four! This one is pretty short, but as always, it is necessary. In it, you get to take your first steps into Columbia and meet Comstock. So yeah, that all happens.
> 
> Again, thank you SO MUCH for all the reviews, kudos, and reads! You guys are nothing but awesome and you keep me going! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
> With that said, enjoy chapter four!!! :D

Your nose continued to bleed steadily as the flying machine you were aboard landed, opened up, and released you out into an odd sort of temple. You had no way to wipe or control the blood while you were in the air, so red had trickled from your nose, down your face, and onto your dress freely. As soon as your feet hit the watery floor of the temple, your mother rushed to your side, dabbing water off the floor with a kerchief and patting your nose and dress down feverishly.

“How very odd, you aren’t one to get nosebleeds.” Your mother whispered as she continued to furiously dab away.

“It was probably just the altitude messing with her,” Fink sighed while taking off his shoes so they wouldn’t get flooded, “And now her dress is ruined and she looks a mess. I can’t believe she’ll look so soiled when she meets Comstock.” 

Hearing the name Comstock instantly sent chills down your spine. You had heard him discussed between your mother and Fink many-a-time, his name each time preceded by a different title. He was known as Comstock, Father, The Prophet. From what you gathered, he was not only a religious leader, but the founder and creator of all of Columbia. As such, he was also the most powerful man in the city. And as you learned from Fink, powerful men were something to fear.

After a few more moments of sitting in silence, collecting yourselves, Fink urged you and your mother to move on. Though your nose was barely bleeding now, you still held a kerchief up to your nostrils to be safe. You followed closely behind your mother and Fink as you began to head further into the temple.

As you walked, you were in awe of scenery you passed by. Your eyes scanned over huge beautiful stained glass windows depicting scenes of The Prophet, his wife, and a beautiful baby. They took your breath away. At this time of day, the Sun shone through them just right, so that they illuminated the water and walls with an array of mesmerizing color. You passed room after room, each aesthetically pleasing at the next. Most housed people deep in prayer, and several had sermons in progress. Angelic voices echoed through the halls, singing sweet sounding hymns. You were never raised particularly religious, but you had to admit being so high in the air in such a beautiful place did make you feel close to God. This feeling helped put your heart at ease, and for the first time since you stepped into the row boat, you started to relax.

Your mother’s voice broke through the chorusing clergy, “Jeremiah, this place is beyond belief! I can’t believe such a place exists, and is to be our home, no less,” She gasped and grabbed his arm excitedly, “But I thought you said Columbia was just starting out? Well, if this is just starting out, my mind won’t even be able to comprehend the finished product!!! How much longer till the city is complete? When does Father Comstock plan on unveiling this earthly heaven to the world? I can’t imagine how he’s even kept it a secret this long!” 

Fink stopped in his tracks, causing you and your mother to follow suit. As you looked up at him, you noticed his face had donned one of his shiver inducing smiles, “My dear girls,” he spoke calmly, “There is something very important I don’t think you have quite grasped about that tear we went through earlier. In your world… your old world, that is, Columbia had yet to exist at all in the material sense, and instead was just thoughts and scribbled notes and drawings on Comstock’s desk. That was the past world, in 1885. Through the tear, in this present year of 1898, is where you are now.”

“You mean… We time traveled?” You questioned incredulously.

Fink laughed, “You could say that. I know it is confusing, but please understand. I would have told you earlier, but I didn’t want you to think me a mad man and be frightened away from your new Eden! “

At first, you didn’t want to believe it. Time travel was impossible; just fiction put in fantasy stories. But the more your mind dwelled on it, the more it made sense. Why it was suddenly sunny when seconds before it was a raging storm, why no one in your family (including you) had ever heard of such a sensational things as a full blown, fully functional, floating city (something that certainly would have made headlines). And it may also explain why your body felt so rejected to this “new world”. Were you starting to rapidly age? Would your body suddenly develop from that of a little girl, to woman? And what of your family back in New York? Has it been years since they last heard from you? Have they been looking for you? You imagined our aged father and adult sister weeping, broken, but still searching for you. Your body began to tremble.

“Why aren’t we old,” You commanded, concern filling your voice, “That’s 13 years! I should be 23, but I’m still nine! I don’t understand-“

“(Name), please,” Your mother shushed you, “you are raising your voice! You must calm down.”

“I understand your concern,” Fink spoke, visibly annoyed by your questions, “But I must say you worry far too much for a child. You won’t rapidly age and you will stay very much the same. How it all works, I told you earlier, I’m not sure of completely. However, Rosalind Lutece assured me herself all would be well, and she has no reason to lie. So leave it at that.”

Fink’s answer did nothing to satisfy you, so you pushed on, a thick anger lining your words, “But what about my sister and father? You promised I could write to them, or even visit them! But by now my sister will be an adult, I won’t even know what she looks like,” tears burned your eyes and anger coursed through your veins, “And father, what of him? He must think I am long gone, with no word from me for thirteen years! And my grandparents may not even be alive anymore! Your tricked us! You lead us here with lies and-“

You didn’t get a chance to finish before Fink’s hand came down hard on your cheek, causing a tremendous throbbing pain. It was then you suddenly became aware of your surroundings. The singing and sermons had stopped, and all the people who had participated in them had gathered around you. Their faces were a mix of concern and mortification, and a rush of embarrassment overcame you. You promptly shut you up, and stared hard at the ground.

“Mister Fink,” A man stepped forward, and judging from his robes, he seemed to be a minister, “We do not tolerate violence of any sort in this holy place.”

Fink flashed a convincing apologetic smile, “Pardon me, brother, I deeply apologize, I meant no harm! My wife, daughter, and I have all had a rather long day, and I am sorry to admit that our tempers seem to be getting the better of us!”

Finks ‘miraculous’ charms prevailed again as the ministers angry scowl was replaced with a kind smirk, “Ah, I see, “He spoke kindly, “Tempers can be such wicked monsters, praying on the kindest people in their weakened states. Regardless, it is a pleasure to see you back in Columbia, Mister Fink. And it is also quite the honor to finally be in the presence of your much spoken of wife and daughter.” 

“And it is good to be home! Again, my deepest apologies for disrupting your sermons, but we must be on our way. We must not keep the Prophet waiting any longer!”

The priest smiled, “Certainly. He eagerly awaits you in the gardens. May the Prophet and Founders bless you, Fink and family.”

Your group began to wade the rest of the way through the temple, passing up what seemed to be a mandatory baptism (with a few commanding words from Fink), and you emerged into a world blindingly bright. Once your eyes adjusted, you saw that you spilled out into a fountain, which was surrounded by a lush and gorgeous garden. The scent of fresh roses wafted into your nose, and the sun’s rays provided welcome warmth to your chilly body. Directly in front of you stood three imposing statues of Washington, Jefferson, and Franklin, and waiting in front of those statues was a man whom could only be Comstock.

He stood stoically, eyes staring straight forward, unwavering. He was dressed nicely, and his snow white hair and beard were perfectly kept. You noticed that he looked just like he stepped out of the stained glass window you were admiring moments ago. A warm smile spread across his face when he noticed your group’s presence, and his arms opened up as if to welcome you into your arms.

“Children,” Though he spoke calmly, his voice made you instantly tense up, “Pilgrims, friends, family. Mister Jeremiah Fink, I welcome you back. Newcomers, welcome to your new home. Columbia and I are so delighted to have you here, and the Founders truly smile upon your arrival. Please, come closer!”

You all shuffled forward until you were mere inches from Comstock. Now that you were fully in his presence, you began to understand why so many people talked highly of him. He had quite a commanding aura about him, but his appearance wasn’t off setting, and instead he seemed rather pleasant. His voice was warm and persuasive, and his smell reminded you of your fathers, strong yet inviting. But still, something didn’t seem right. You watched nervously as he hugged your mother, and kissed her on the cheek, saying words to her you did not particularly care to hear. You were too focused on staring at his face. You had sworn you had seen it somewhere before. Not just seen, but known. Your head began to roar in pain once again, and your heart was beating a mile a minute. Visions were fighting to make themselves known in your mind, visions you were positive you had never seen before, yet they made your heartache terribly. You were frantically trying to figure out what was going on in your brain when you felt strong hands hoist you up in the air.

“And you must be miss (name),” You were face to face with Comstock now, his deep eyes staring intently into yours, which only made your heart beat faster, “Oh dear girl, whatever is the matter? You look as pale as a sheet and your nose is bleeding! Are you not well?”

“I’m afraid air travel has had quite an adverse effect on her,” Fink spoke for you, “The poor dear has been having nose bleeds since she was on the ship! And on top of that, the thrill of the excitement has left her quite exhausted, so pardon her demeanor at present. Today has been an eventful day for us all.”

“Well then, we must get this angel rested so that she may enjoy all this beautiful city has to offer her,” Comstock smiled at Fink, and then directed his full attention back to you, “I must say though, miss (Name), even in sickness you are one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen. Your mother is lucky to have such a gorgeous little girl…”

Comstock’s voice trailed off, and in his eyes you saw a shimmer of something you couldn’t quite place. He became transfixed by you, and the longer he stared, the more uncomfortable you got. You felt his grip begin to tighten on you, from discomfort, to pain. 

“… Father Comstock,” You spoke softly, his name tasted bitter on your lips, “Is everything all right?”

Your voice broke him out of his daze and he placed you on the ground once again, “I apologize child, it’s just that for a second… Well, you reminded me of someone long forgotten. Mister Fink, please make your new family at home.”

“Of course, Prophet, I shall give them nothing but the best that Columbia has to offer.”

And with those words, your new life in Columbia officially began.

~

A/N: Wow, way to go clergy men. Cool job seeing a little girl get slapped and not doing anything about. :P But hey, welcome officially to Columbia! Everything is scary and exciting as we continue on from here! Thank you so much for reading and stay tuned for next chapter! :D


	5. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when the city in the sky wasn't seeming all that bad...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Chapter five is go! This one is a doozy, and be warned that the end of it get's rather brutal. But you are about to explore Columbia for the first time, which is exciting! And, you may or may not be having some dreams that may or may not have a certain man in them... Hmmm... Guess you should get reading! ;D
> 
> Also, thank you AGAIN for all the kind reviews and kudos and all the other awesome stuff you guys do! You are all marvelous, and it means so much to me!
> 
> With that said, carry on reading!

Your first few weeks in Columbia were horrid.

Starting the night you first arrived, you came down with a terrible fever. Your body was racked with chills, yet your temperature was through the roof. You were too weak to make it to a medical facility, so Fink called doctors and nurses to tend to you at your new home in Finkton. Though they were able to prescribe medicine that helped your fever subside, the doctors weren’t sure what to make of your other ailments. Your nose bled at least once a day, and lasted for quite some time on and off. With the bleeding came horrible headaches and nausea that the doctor couldn’t figure out how to control. On top of all your physical ailments, you were also plagued with horrible nightmares. Every night for several weeks you’d awaken in a cold sweat, breathing heavily and heart racing. The dreams always seemed a variation of the same things: You’d be alone in a never ending hallway of doors, and behind one of them a baby was screaming and crying. You’d search and search, working yourself into a panicked tizzy, but you could never find the baby. In another one, you’d be standing in pitch blackness, and you’d hear the voice of a young girl screaming in agony. Her shrieking was incessant and animalistic, and her voice pleaded for help and release. But much like with the baby, your efforts to reach her were always in vain. Whenever you’d make an attempt to reach her, you’d be forced away. Large talons, as if belonging to a powerful and insanely large bird, would wrap around you tightly and pull you off into the nothingness. And however ghastly and worrisome those dreams were, none of them bothered you as much as the last one did.

In the last (and most frequent) dream, you’d be headed toward the exact same lighthouse that took you to Columbia. It would also be storming, same as when you departed from your home, but the weather seemed far fiercer than any you had encountered before. You were always alone on the row boat in your dream, rowing for all you were worth, your arms pushing and pulling the tide to the point of collapse. Farther ahead in the distance was your objective, another boat, which held a man and two other individuals who were clad in yellow rain gear. You could never see their faces, just make out their forms. You’d scream and scream at the top of your lungs for them to stop, but your yells would always be gobbled by the thunder and never reach their ears. A horrible feeling of all-encompassing dread would pass through your body the closer they got to the lighthouse, and though you were never sure the reason, it was very important to you to reach them before they got there. In particularly, it was very important for you to reach the man. Though the reason for wanting to reach him so badly was unclear, to you it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was, in those moments, reaching him was the most important thing in the world. You never ended up reaching him, however, and the dream always ended the same. The man would enter the lighthouse and your body and boat would be consumed by the unforgiving waves.

You never dared to tell anyone the details of your nightmares, not even your own mother. Frankly, you didn’t feel safe sharing them with anyone, at least not yet. So you suffered alone in silence, afraid to close your eyes, but too exhausted to keep them open.

~

Your mother was adamant about staying by your side nonstop for the first few days of your illness, but after a while, Fink urged her out to explore her new home. Whenever she’d return in the evenings, she’d always have new wonders to tell you of.

“Oh (Name), my darling chickadee, your father is a true genius! He showed me around all of Finkton today, and I must say the man knows how to get people working! He’s created so many brilliant machines… machines I could never dream possible! And that is just the beginning! It is unbelievable! You should see all the people lined up, eager to work for him, and who can blame them?! It is such a sight!!! I tell you, simply walking next to him made me feel like a celebrity,” She’d say one day.

“My beautiful girl, when you are well, I must take your to Emporia! Only the finest of the fine in shopping is there, and there are so many beautiful dresses I just know you will adore! Also, Lady Comstock’s memorial is so solemnly gorgeous; you just have to visit it! She seemed like such a fine woman, such a shame to lose her so soon… Oh darling, do get better soon so that you may enjoy your new home to the fullest,” She’d say the next.

Sometimes, she’d even bring you gifts.

“Daaaaarling,” Your mother cooed to you, slipping into your room. There was a strange device she was holding in her hands, it almost looked like some kind of mini radio.

“What is it mother?”

“Say something remarkable!” She beamed.

“… I’m not quite sure what you mean?” You questioned.

“… I’m not quite sure what you mean?” Your voice echoed back from the machine in her hands, making you jump.

Your mother laughed, “Isn’t it wonderful?! It’s called a Voxophone, and it’s used to record short messages! I brought this one for you, so put whatever you want on it my love!”

You smiled, marveling at the small device she handed to you, “Thank you! I’ll be sure to put a grand message on it!”

~

Time passed, and slowly but surely you were healing. Your fever went away, your headaches and nosebleeds decreased drastically, and even your nightmares were starting to subside. You began to move around more, and even started to explore a bit. First, you just poked around Fink’s huge mansion, which than progressed to other parts of Finkton. Your mother was quite smitten with your new home, but from what you saw of Finkton, you weren’t too impressed. Gold statues of Fink popped up all around you, and his face and name were impossible to escape. Propaganda littered the streets, painting Fink as glorious human being who put countless ingrates and undesirables to work, giving them purpose and a happy life. The broken expressions on the workers faces told otherwise, and left you with a heavy heart. You knew their pain, being all too familiar with Fink’s ways yourself.

~

After a few more days of healing, the time finally came for you to ‘make your debut ‘(as Fink called it) in Columbia. Your mother dressed you in finery, a beautiful (favorite color) dress made custom for you in Emporia, ordered by Fink. The way the lace and satin fell on your skin along with the bows done up in your hair made you feel like a queen. Looking in a mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. You didn’t want to let Fink know, but you were one hundred percent smitten with the dress, and excited to finally be able to encounter the wonders of your new home.

“Well, look at you,” Fink exclaimed when you and your mother met him at the front door to depart, “You may just be the prettiest little thing in all of Columbia!”

You couldn’t stop the blush from happening on your cheeks, as much as you hated the reaction. Even for all the evil things Fink had done, the smile on his face and the words he spoke seemed genuine. 

“Thank you, sir.” You quietly responded.

And then you were on your way.

~

The day turned into a whirlwind.

Early in the morning, you started out at the market district in Emporia. You were in awe over all you saw. The most elegant ladies in gentleman done up in the most breathtaking clothes passed you by, each stopping to greet Fink, your mother, and yourself along the way. Men bowed and kissed your hand, and ladies curtseyed to you. You felt so important in this world, a feeling which was lacking all throughout your young life. Fink took you from clothes store to clothes store, insisting you pick out all that you wanted, regardless of price. When you’d object to items because of the price tag, or how overly fancy it seemed, Fink would just laugh and say, “My dear, I am the hardest working man in Columbia, and because of that, I am also the wealthiest! Price is no issue! And besides, no daughter of mine will be dressed like a simpleton!” 

After several hours of shopping (and a new wardrobe), you made your way via gondola to the welcome center, the first place you saw in Columbia after the temple. Once there, Fink continued to lavish you. He bought you a hotdog from a street vendor, a treat you had never tasted before, and then bought you the grandest banana split you could ever imagine at the ice cream parlor. Your mother and Fink were in a deep discussion with several citizens of Columbia when you happened to notice some children playing off in the distance.

“Mother,” You lightly tugged her dress, “May I go play over there for a bit?”

She nodded, and watched as you scampered off after the children. There were three of them, two boys and one girl, all seeming to be around your age. The boys were tossing a ball back and forth between the two of them, while the girl tried desperately to grab it from them. One of the boys slipped up, and the ball ended up rolling right to your feet. You picked it up attentively as the children turned their faces towards you.

“Hey girl,” One of the boys yelled gruffly, “Throw it here, don’t just stand there!”

“Yeah, give it!” The other boy hollered.

“Oh you two,” The girl aggravatingly whined, “don’t listen to them, throw the ball to me! They have been hogging it for 30 minutes now and haven’t passed it to me once!”

You hesitated for another moment before passing it to the girl, a huge smile beaming from her face, while groans escaped the boy’s mouths.

“Thank you, um… What was your name again?” The girl said.

“(Name)! I’m (name)!” You smiled eager to meet children your own age.

“Well (name), my name is *Esther, and these are my brothers, Matthew and William. Pardon their boorishness,” The young girl smiled at you, her eyes bright and friendly, “Would you like to join us? We could use another player!”

“Hey, what’s the big idea,” Matthew spoke up angrily, “We are only playing with you because mother said we had to, and now you are bringing another girl in to play? I won’t allow it!”

“Yeah!” William called in agreeance.

“Oh be quiet,” Esther spoke, “You are just worried because us ladies are naturally better than you boys, and you are afraid we will beat you are whatever game we play, right (name)?”

You smiled, “Yes, of course, what other reason would they be so against me joining?”

The boys faces started to turn red as Esther threw you the ball, “Alright Willy, you and I are going to show these ladies who is really better! Let’s play!”

And play you did. You ran, and laughed, and yelled, and played carefree, and you were completely and utterly happy. It was the first time that you had felt so free and wild in a very long time. The children that you were playing with were not unlike your friends at home, and Esther reminded you quite a bit of your sister. An undiscernible amount of time had passed before your mother came to collect you.

“(Name), it’s time to go!” She called to you, motioning with her hand for you to come to her.  
A frown appeared on you face as you looked at your new friends, “I guess I have to go now.” 

“Ah, that’s OK,” Esther smiled at you, “We’ll play again soon, I promise! Next time, I’ll bring some of my dolls to share!”  
Matthew snorted, “You girls would want to play with boring things like dolls.”

“I don’t see what you have against them,” You spoke, “In fact your brother seems quite fond of his doll.”  
Matthew whipped around to see (what you would later learn was) a Duke (of Duke and Dimwit) toy nestled in Williams arms.

“That isn’t a doll, you dummy! That’s a… Well… He’s like, you know, an action toy!” Matthew screamed, flustered.

“Yes, well, dolls are quite often ‘action toys’,” You winked at the fuming Matthew, laughing Esther, and puzzled William and began to run to your mother, “Anyway, thank you for letting me play, I had so much fun! I’ll see you all later!”

They all waved to you until you were no longer in sight.

~

It was getting rather late in the day, and though you were pretty worn out at this point, Fink had one more surprise for you. That surprise was Battleship Bay.

You had thought you had seen it all in Columbia until you stepped on that beach for the first time. You knew it was fake; you were thousands of feet in the air for Pete’s sake! But the way the wet sand tickled your toes and clung to them like a child to its mother, the way the water tasted of salt and brine, and the way seagulls padded along hungrily after people toting picnic baskets was damn near enough to convince you otherwise. 

You played hard at the beach. You swam until your arms and legs felt like limp noodles, and you scoured the beach relentlessly for shells (which at first you thought there wouldn’t be any, but you were pleasantly surprised to find out otherwise). You watched as men worked out together in a line, and blushed vigorously when one of the more attractive of the line noticed you and flashed you a wink and a smile. After that, your eyes caught notice of dancers on the pier. You ran excitedly to them, and couldn’t help but laugh in joy when you realized two of the dancers were none other than your mother and Fink, both of whom looked to be without a care in the world. You caught your mother’s eye, and she blew you a kiss.

As you played through the remainder of the evening, the sun was beginning to sink lower and lower. To finish off the day, Fink took you and your mother on the stroll along the boardwalk. Your mother, quite worn out from the day’s activities, opted to hang back and relax on a bench until you and Fink were ready to leave. Reluctant to be without her, you carried on with Fink.

After a few minutes of awkward, silent, walking, your eyes fell upon a stand selling dolls. You gravitated towards the stand, and couldn’t help but marvel at dolls beauty. Their bodies were made of carved and polished fine wood, and their faces were painted beautifully and made from delicate porcelain. Their hair was real, and their dresses beautiful. You were smitten, you had always dreamed of owning a doll such as that, but your family could either never afford one, or considered them a waste of money. You sighed heavily, and began to walk away when Fink stopped you.

“Would you like the blonde, or the brunette?” He asked.

“Excuse me, Mister Fink?” You questioned.

“Dear girl, I hate repeating myself. Now, which doll do you prefer?”

“Oh, Mister Fink, that’s quite alright, I don’t need her, I just thought-“

“We’ll take the (hair color) one,” He stated, dishing out cash to the man behind the booth, whom promptly handed the doll to you.

“Thank you, Mister Fink,” The sales clerk smiled, “What a great man you are, making this little girl smile like that!”

As you were walking away, you spoke to Fink, “Sir… You really didn’t have to do that,”

“Child, please. I did it because I wanted to.” He responded, sounding somewhat bored.

“I don’t understand.” You spoke quietly, clutching the doll to your chest, and staring at your feet.

“Don’t understand what,” You remained quiet, not sure how to respond, “Well, speak up girl!”

“It’s… um, nothing Mister Fink. Thank you kindly for the doll.” You blushed.

“Humph, I told you you’d get the best, didn’t I?” 

You walked on silently after that, until you happened to look up, and your gaze fell upon the most astounding monument you had ever seen. Before your eyes floated angel, all in gold, sparkling in the setting sun. Massive and breathtaking, you ran to the railing to get a closer look at her. She had her arms outstretched, and a benevolent smile graced her face, and the way you were positioned made it look like she was smiling at you.

“Mister Fink, what is that?” You questioned excitedly, pointing toward the monument.

His eyes followed your finger, “Oh that? That is Monument Island. It used to be where every person would pass through when they came to Columbia.”

“How beautiful, I wish I could have passed through it,” You smiled, “But if it isn’t where people enter the city anymore, than what is it now?”

“It’s where the lamb lives.”

You turned a confused gaze to him, “The… lamb?”

“Father Comstock’s daughter, they call her The Lamb of Columbia.”

“Oh, I see,” You looked back towards the monument with a dreamy gaze, “I wonder what it’s like to live up there?”

Fink sighed, “It’s getting rather late, I believe it’s time we head back home. I shall fetch your mother, wait here.”

You watched Fink retreat for a bit before your eyes fell back to the golden angel. Finally alone with your thoughts, you let your mind wander. ‘Columbia is more spectacular than I could have ever imagined. Not in my wildest dreams would I envision it being this grand! Every turn has a new wonder, and all the people seem so kind… Even Fink seems so much nicer here! But I still am so confused about him. Why does he keep treating me so nicely, and lavishing me with gifts and treats, after treating me so horribly back home? What am I doing now that I wasn’t doing then to make him care more for me? I just don’t understand him at all, and that is what scares me the most,’ You held the doll out in your arms, and smiled at her, ‘But then again, this is a fresh start for not just me, but him too. Maybe he will only improve from here on out? … Oh daddy and Kat… I wish you were here to see all this with me.’

Fink was taking a while, so you decided to head back towards your family when you were interrupted by the sound of nearby crying. From the pitch of it, it was a little girls crying.   
You walked a bit further to your right and peeked behind a closed vendor’s booth to find the source. It was indeed a little girl, smaller than you. From her looks, she was probably around five or six. She had dark brown skin, wild hair, a torn dress, and her face was buried in her hands. What looked to be a broken toy was at her feet.

“Excuse me,” The girls face whipped up at you, startled, “Are you OK?”

She looked at you for a moment, a mix of hurt and fear on her face. She than glanced around the area, as if checking to see if someone else was nearby. When she deemed the coast clear, she quietly spoke to you.

“I… I dropped my toy and it broke… My mother got it for me for my birthday. It’s the first toy I’ve ever had all to myself.” Tears continued to poor down her eyes as she stared at the rubble.

Your heart went out to her, and a sad frown befell your features, “Oh no, I’m sorry… Here, let me look at it. Maybe I can figure out how to fix it?”

After another small moment of hesitation, the girl nodded, and scooped up the toy before placing it in your hands. After inspecting it, you tried your hand at repairing it. No matter what you did seem to work and it was becoming obvious to the both of you that the toy was beyond repair. 

“I’m really sorry,” You responded, defeated, “I think it is beyond being fixed,” You looked up at the girls tear stained face, and your heart nearly broke in two. She looked utterly devastated, and you couldn’t help but see you and your sister in her eyes, for you remember how it felt to be from a penniless home where every small thing you received was a treasure. You knew what you had to do.

“Here,” You said, holding out your new doll to her, “Why don’t you take this instead?”

The girl’s eyes grew huge, “Do you mean...? No, no I couldn’t do that!”

“I mean it, take her! I have more dolls at home, and, well, I want you to have this one!”

A small smile appeared on the girls face, “Do… Do you really mean that? I can really have her?”

You smiled brightly, “Of course! Consider it a gift from one friend to another! You deserve it!”

The only way to describe the look on the girls face as she took the doll from your hand and cradled it in her arms was pure elation, “Thank you, Miss! Thank you so much! I’ll always treasure her, I will, I-“

“What in God’s name is going on here?”

Your blood ran cold as you turned to find Fink towering behind you, your worried mother in tow. Rage and a sadistic smile was on his face, and his voice was so loud it caught a great deal of people on the boardwalks attention.

“Are you stealing that doll from my daughter, negro child?!” Fink’s voice thundered.

You hurriedly spoke up for the scared girl, “No, please, I gave it to her-“

You didn’t get the chance to explain further before Fink pushed you out of the way, and began an assault on the little girl. Blows came down on her hard, first with his fists, then when she fell, his feet. He was stomping and spitting on her as she screamed out for help. You moved to help her, tears falling from your eyes, but your mother latched onto you tightly and wouldn’t let go, no matter how hard you thrashed about. You watched horrified as the girl became more and more bloody and bruised, her eyes locking onto yours, as she screamed in agony.

You turned towards the crowd, hoping to find someone that would come help the poor girl out, but your hopes were dashed when you noticed all the people watching were adamantly cheering Fink on.

“I can’t believe coloreds these days, taking a little girls toy away! She’s getting what she deserves! ”

“What is that little brat doing here, anyway? Doesn’t she know this place is whites only? Shit, makes me sick just seeing her here!”

“Damn coloreds! Let this be a reminder of their place!” 

“Atta boy, Fink! Remind that little bitch of her place in this world!”

You collapsed into you mother, sobbing. Every blow that fell upon the girl was a blow to your own heart.

Columbia was not the heaven it appeared to be. 

 

*This Esther is in fact Esther Mailer, the girl who asks Elizabeth is she is Annabelle in the game. 

 

A/N: Wow. This chapter ended really brutally and horribly, and I am sorry for that. And just when things seemed a little better off for you… I apologize. But hey, what about that those dreams, huh? I wonder who the guy in the rowboat could possibly be. Hmmmmmmm. ;D Thanks for the read! More soon!!!


	6. Lunch With Lutece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Fink and your mother are away, you take the opportunity to get some unanswered questions answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Heavy sigh* This chapter. Sorry it seemed to take a little longer than normal to update this time around… It’s just that this chapter hurt my brain, nearly made me cry, I had to rewrite and rearrange it numerous times, and I am still not very happy with it. All that when I planned for it just to be a light little side chapter at first. Ha ha ha, NOPE. :/ But the good thing is, is once we get past this chapter, we get to all the really good stuff! Yeah! >:D
> 
> So, that being said, here is chapter six! I hope you enjoy it! :D

After what had happened to the little girl at Battleship Bay, you had lost any desire to socialize with anyone in Columbia.

You stayed holed up in your room for days, sometimes not ever leaving your bed. Fink came to visit you once in your self-confinement and when he did you refused to talk to him, let alone look at him.

“Fine,” He scoffed, after several minutes of trying to lure you out of your room, “If you want to waste all your time moping some damn negro, go ahead. I only came in here per your mother’s request, anyway. But keep in mind if you don’t get over this quick, well… actions may need to be taken to set you right. Just remember who’s given you all you got, girl.”

Hot tears stung your eyes at that last comment. Being even a small bit indebted to a man like Fink made your stomach turn, let alone completely relying on him (as you and your mother were) for all your basic needs. You couldn’t believe you had been stupid enough to even think for a second that this man cared for your happiness and well-being. Everything he did was to benefit him, and that was how it was always going to be.

Your mother visited more frequently, yet you also refused to speak with her. You knew she was terribly worried about you; you could see it in the bags under her eyes and hear it in the shake of her voice. Every time she’d look at you with those weary eyes you’d be hit with a pang of guilt, but you were resolved to hold your ground. You didn’t approve of your mother relationship with Fink, and you never had. You wouldn’t condone anyone’s behavior that stood by and watched a very young girl getting beaten horribly, even if that woman was your own Mother. 

The only people you chose to talk to were the maids, but even then it was just small words of thanks for bringing you food and fresh linens, as well as trying their best to make you smile. You figured any person forced to make a living catering to Fink’s every whim at least deserved that much.

~

You had been planning this day for a solid week, and finally it had come. 

Every Saturday, your mother and Fink would spend the whole day out about the town. They’d leave at around eleven in the morning, and would not arrive home until at least eight at night. Saturday was also laundry day, so from eleven to four in the evening, the maids in the house would all be busy at work getting chores done in the house. With everyone occupied, you’d have the perfect window to sneak out into Columbia on your own, and you knew just who you wanted to see.

Once your mother had shut the door after kissing you goodbye, you immediately set to work getting ready. You hurriedly got dressed and did up your hair, grabbing a map of Columbia off your table as you left the room. You had asked a maid for the map a few days prior, telling her you were interested in learning Columbia’s geography. Luckily, she believed you, and didn’t find your request suspicious at all. After you had suited up, you stuffed your map into a small coin purse you had, and snuck your way around maids until you were outside.

Getting through Finkton was harder than you originally thought, and you got lost several times. You even had to stop and ask a few people for directions (something you didn’t want to do, for fear of getting caught and reported). However, none of the people you asked seemed to know you were the adopted daughter of Fink. That or they just didn’t care.

After about an hour, you had finally navigated out of Finkton and made your way to the gondola station. Though you were all around nervous about exploring Columbia on your own, you were particularly nervous about riding the gondola on your own. Would you need a ticket? Would they let a child board by themselves? Would someone on board recognize you in the close space, and report you to Fink? You stared straight ahead, clutching the hem of your dress tight in your hands and hurriedly boarded with a small group of people, hoping not to draw suspicion to yourself. Luckily, there was no fee, and the other passengers were too caught up in their own lives to pay any attention to yours.

Despite moderate success so far in your journey, you couldn’t help but still fret. You had never really been out alone anywhere before, let alone a whole new location. You had been over you map at least a hundred times, but as traveling through Finkton just showed you, that definitely did not guarantee success. On top of that, you were also terribly concerned people would be able to point out that you were Fink’s daughter, and get pulled away until he came to claim you (something you most definitely did not want). Also, would who you were going to visit even be home, or invite you in, for that matter? You sighed heavily, and directed your eyes towards the clear blue sky, taking in the spectacular view of the city. 

You had to admit, though Columbia wasn’t turning out to be the heaven you were told it would be, it sure was beautiful. Way up in the sky, floating amongst the clouds, you did feel a sense of freedom… even if it was just an illusion.

After a few minutes of sky travel, the gondola docked at Emporia. People piled out, leaving you as the last to depart. You thanked the gondolas captain, and held your map steadily in front of you as you began to navigate the streets. All of Emporia was abuzz with the well to do of Columbia scurrying from place to place. Several people pushed past you, and one man even knocked you over. ‘Well,’ you thought bitterly as you stood up and dusted yourself off, ‘At least this means people aren’t paying attention to me, which means I won’t get found out by Fink.’

After a several more minutes of cautious walking you let out a sigh of relief when your destination came into view.

“There it is,” You whispered to yourself, pocketing your map, “Lutece Labs.”

You made your way up to the front door, and hesitated before you knocked. Would anyone be there? What if someone other than Rosalind answered? Would Rosalind even remember you? What if she was far too busy to be bothered, or just didn’t want to talk with you at all? You shook your head, ‘No, I mustn’t think that way! I came all this way on my own and now may be the only chance I get to talk with her. I have to try at least!’ And so, with a shaky fist, you knocked. 

For what seemed like a long time, nothing happened. You began to regret coming, thinking the whole trip was in vain. You raised your fist to knock one more time, when the door swung open abruptly. 

“I thought I made it quite clear that I wanted no part- Oh.” Rosalind strict tone took a surprised air when she saw it was you standing on her doorstep.

“Hello, Miss Lutece,” You nervously curtsied, “I sincerely hope that I am not interfering with anything important by showing up out of the blue like this.”

“Why no, in fact, you are quite the welcome sight considering I thought you to be another of Fink’s leeches coming for an interview and pictures. Such time wasting nonsense,” she shook her head before continuing, “... Did you come alone?”

“I did. I am sorry I didn’t give some kind of warning before coming over, I had to keep this whole trip and secret from everyone.”

“Yes, I can imagine Fink wouldn’t be too fond of you coming to visit and have a private chat with me,” she smirked, “ Anyway, stop apologizing when there is nothing to be apologizing for,” Rosalind turned and held the door open, gesturing you inside, “Come in.”

You stepped into Rosalind’s office/home. It was smaller than you’d thought it would be, and surprisingly comfortable and inviting. She followed in after you, and led you down a hall a narrow hallway that eventually emptied out into a small but tidy kitchen. Before you got there however, your eyes were drawn to a remarkable site.

A large machine took up nearly the whole of the one of the side room’s interior. The machine itself, other than being huge, was shaped sort of like a cylinder, with a platform on the bottom and a strange top that looked like an odd, upside-down, metal mushroom. Huge cords ran from the machine off into god knows where, and blue lighting whirred all around it from hook like protrusions on its side. It looked like a torture device out of a nightmare.

“What is that?” You gawked, pointing to it incredulously.

“Oh, that,” Rosalind spoke unfazed, “Is called the Lutece device, I created it. It’s the machine that is responsible for creating and manipulating tears. My brother was working it the day you stepped through the tear that brought you to Columbia.”

“I… See…” You stated, confused yet intrigued, “I’d never imagine that this is what created the tears… It is quite impressive.” You wanted to know how it worked, or at least see it in action, but you reminded yourself that isn’t what you were there for and dashed the idea out of your head.

“Thank you.” Was all she stated, and without another word she continued to usher you past the machine, down the hall, and into her kitchen.

Once there, she pulled out a seat for you to sit upon, which you gladly abided by.

“I’m not too keen on what children enjoy eating these days, but I figure you can’t go wrong with sandwiches and tea, correct?” Rosalind asked over her shoulder, as she began to pull out lunch making supplies from her cabinets.

“Oh please, I don’t want to put you to too much trouble, I already feel bad for taking up your time!” You called to her.

“Don’t be so modest,” She responded as she set to work getting the meal prepared, “There is no Fink here, so you have no reason to worry about being completely subordinate or facing his wrath. It takes bravery to sneak away from a man like him and explore a whole new world on your own, let alone doing it at the age you are. Brave girls have no need to be so apologetic or mousy. And besides, I was in need of a meal break; mine as well take it with company.”

Rosalind’s comment made you smile, “I agree, and thank you. Is there anything I can do to assist you, though?”

“The only thing I want from you is an explanation as to what could make you plan such a trip to visit me. I doubt it was just to say hello and get sandwiches and tea from me.”  
You smiled nervously, and stared down at your lap, “Well yes… I do have quite a few questions for you actually, if you don’t mind.”

Rosalind made her way over the table with a plate of sandwiches in one hand and two cups of steaming tea in the other. Once she had placed them on the table, she herself took a seat across from you. She picked up her mug of tea, and just before bringing it to her lips she uttered for you to go on with your questions.

“Well, first and foremost,” You paused a bit, and then sighed before continuing, “I suppose I am just confused. When we went through that tear back at the lighthouse that eventually lead us here, Fink told my mother and I that we had traveled through time. At first, it was hard to believe, but I know now that that is the truth,” You paused a bit, thinking of what to say next, before continuing, “I was just wondering if maybe you could clear the whole ordeal up for me. Fink said we wouldn’t have to worry about aging rapidly, or really have any issues at all… But I find that hard to believe.”

Rosalind nodded, “As you should. Every action has a reaction, and you are wise to be worried about them. Honestly, though, it seems like you’ve already experienced the negative reactions to coming here. I’ve heard about your sicknesses… Did you think it mere coincidence that they occurred right after you ‘time traveled’ through the tear, when you were particularly healthy before?”

“So it was the tears then,” You began to sip at your tea, “I had my suspicions, but I wanted to be absolutely certain… Did the same things happen to you, Miss Lutece, when you travel through tears? Did you also suffer sickness and nosebleeds? I mean, I you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

She sighed, “It used to. I’d get headaches so terribly I couldn’t walk straight… And yes, occasionally my nose would bleed a bit. However, I am so used to tear travel now that I am barely even fazed by it. Also, to answer the second part of that question, Fink was on a rare happenstance, right. You have no reason to fear sudden aging. Tear travel doesn’t work that way…” Her sentence hung in the air, and she seemed as if she had much more to say on the matter, yet she remained quiet, looking at you judgingly. It was as if she couldn’t figure out what would be OK to divulge to you, and what wouldn’t.

“Anyway,” She shook her head lightly, “Do you have another question for me,” She glanced at her watch quickly, “I don’t mean to hurry you, but I must be getting back to work shortly.”

You were slightly disappointed that she chose not to go into more detail about her mysterious tears, but knew that it would be a bad idea to push the topic. You took a deep breath, and said “Well, there is actually one more thing I was wondering if you could help me with… If you don’t mind…”

“And that is?”

“You see,” You averted your gaze to the kitchen window, “Ever since my parents split, I have missed my father and sister terribly. I haven’t even as much as seen my sister since she joined the Abbey, and it’s been even longer since I saw my father. I used to write them both letters almost every day, and in turn, would get letters from them just as often. Here in Columbia… I have no idea how to reach either of them. My mother and Fink have been of no help when I inquired to them, and… well, I know it is asking a lot… But, could you maybe send them a letter for me?”

Rosalind looked at you for a long period, her face unreadable. You began to sweat and fidget nervously, fearing that you had rubbed the scientist the wrong way. What right did you have, coming into her home out of the blue, asking her to do you a personal favor? The more you dwelled on it, the more you regretted it, and you were about to tell her to forget about it when she spoke up.

“It’ll be difficult,” Her voice sounded sharp, but not angry, “Very difficult. Every time we deliver a letter, it will have to be either my brother or I traveling through a tear to do so… And creating the right tear for the right time isn’t always so easy.”

You frowned, “I’m sorry Miss Lutece, it was stupid of me-“

“Also,” She cut you off, “The letters would be going one way. We’d be able to mail the letters once through the tears, yes, but your family in the past will have no address to send their letters to. It would be a one way exchange.”

Your heart sunk a little, “Oh? I guess that makes sense, anyway, I think we should just-“

“And lastly,” She cut you off again, “The letters will need to be heavily monitored. Say as little as you can about Columbia or nothing at all, if possible. And make sure you never ever bring up tears to them… Not that they’d necessarily believe what you are writing anyway,” She finished with a sip of her tea, “Does that all make sense?”

You nodded lightly, “Yes.”

“Good. Robert and I are both incredibly busy, so I can’t guarantee very fast letter delivery…. And we will edit over them thoroughly, if we find even a word we think people outside Columbia shouldn’t read, even if they are your closest and trusted relatives, we will destroy it. That all said, yes. I can deliver your letters for you.”

Your eyes lit up, “Really? You truly will?”

“I have no reason to lie… Besides, I feel it’s the least you deserve.”

Her words had an ominous tone to them that sent shivers down your spine. You chose not to think on it too much, and instead bowed as deeply as you could while seated, “Oh Miss Lutece, thank you so much! No words could describe how much this all means to me, really! How shall I ever repay you?”

Rosalind flashed a small, rare, quick smile, “No need, you already have.”

Her words once again eluded you, but at this point, it didn’t matter. You’d be able to reach your family again, even if they couldn’t reach you back. At this point, it was enough just to let them know that you were alive, and knowing that news would give them comfort, which in turn comforted you dearly.

After Rosalind spoke silence hung in the air for several minutes. You both quietly finished your meal, and Rosalind commented that it was time for her to get back to her work. She showed you to the door, and you once again thanked her for everything. She nodded, and responded by telling you that you were free to visit anytime. 

You weren’t entirely sure why Miss Lutece was so keen on to help you, but you left with a light heart, happy to have a true ally in Columbia, no matter how big of a mystery she was.

You were making your way away from Lutece labs, nose buried in your map, trying to find the location to the nearest gondola when you ran smack into someone, causing you to loose balance and fall back on your bottom.

“Ouch,” You mumbled under your breath, looking up to see who you ran into, “I’m terribly sorry, I wasn’t paying atten…”

Your voice trailed off when your eyes fell upon a young man who was a dead ringer for Miss Lutece. You knew instantly that this had to be the brother she mentioned briefly at the lighthouse, as well as the man she kept mentioning during lunch.

“Forgive me as well,” He spoke accented the same way Rosalind did, and extended his hand to you, “ I was so enthralled in getting back to work that I wasn’t paying much mind to where I was walking. I didn’t harm you, did I?”

“Oh no, not at all, you just startled me a bit,” You smiled at him, accepting his hand “… Pardon me for asking, but are you by any chance Miss Lutece’s brother?”

Robert’s eyes widened a bit at the mention of his sister’s name, “Indeed, I am. Are you an acquaintance of Rosalind’s?”

“Why yes! I’m a friend… I guess,” You replied, confused as to what you would call your relationship with Rosalind, “She is the one who brought my mother and I to Columbia through one of her tears.”

Robert’s face donned a startled expression, “That must mean… You are… Well, it seems she wasn’t lying to me after all. It’s a pleasure to meet you miss… (name), was it? Yes, Rosalind has told me much about you. I look forward to seeing more of you in the future, but I am rather late, and must make haste. Until next time...”

And with that, he scurried off, briskly making his way to Lutece labs, and then disappearing into its depths. Talking to Robert was surreal; he was a little too much like Rosalind, almost as if he were her doppelgänger instead of her brother. And the way he spoke of you, both vaguely and familiarly, continued to make your head spin. Just who were you to   
those people? Nevertheless, you felt considerably better after spending some time with the Luteces.

“(NAME)!”

Your head whipped around to where your name had come from to find Esther running toward you, full speed. You smiled among recognizing her, and trotted to meet her half way. When you met, she was out of breath, but gripped your hands in hers tightly, a huge smile on her face.

“(Name)”, she breathed heavily, sweat glistening on her skin as if she had been playing for quite some time, “I’m so happy to see you again!”

“And I am to see you!” You giddily responded.

“It’s been awhile since we played! I looked for you almost every day around all of Emporia, but couldn’t find you at all. What have you been up to?”

Dark thoughts of the events that transpired after you left Emporia flooded your mind, “… I haven’t been feeling too good since… That day happened.”

Noticing the change in your demeanor, Esther’s eyes grew sad, “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot about that incident at Battleship Bay! My mother told me all about it. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“Well, I appreciate your kindness, but honestly I am more concerned for the girl. I never did find out what happened to her after what Fink did, and I worry about her every day.”

Esther’s face contorted into a puzzled look, “Huh… You must still be feeling a little off, (Name)… I mean, what do you mean you are concerned for her? Did she not get what she deserved for stealing your toy?”

“How can you say that,” You snapped, your voice growing an angry edge, “She was just a little girl, littler than us, getting pummeled by a grown man! Nobody deserves the abuse she got, especially when she didn’t steal anything! I gave her my doll!”

“You what,” Esther exclaimed, “Are you crazy?! Why would you willingly give some colored kid one of your toys?!”

You felt your face growing red with anger, “She broke her toy, and was really upset over it! Giving her my doll was the right thing to do! I have plenty of toys at home, and this poor girl had nothing! Are you telling me you wouldn’t do the same thing?!”

“Of course not,” Esther exclaimed, looking at you disgusted, “Maybe if the kid was someone worth something… But some colored girl? Why would I even waste my time talking to her, let alone give her presents?”

“Why does her skin color even matter,” You were fuming at this point, near screaming, “Aren’t we all human beings who deserve to be treated like such? I don’t care if you are black, blue, purple, or pink! No one deserves to be treated the way that girl was, and I’m standing by my decision! If you can’t understand that than I feel deeply sorry for you, Esther.”

A tension hung in the air as you and Esther stared square into each other’s eyes for the next few seconds, trying to read what the other was thinking. Your breath was coming heavy and ragged, but you tried your hardest to keep your composure.

Esther was the one to break the silence, “You know… I was wrong about you. I thought we could be friends, but obviously I was wasting my time. You turned out to be garbage, just like the coloreds you seem to love so much. Who would have thought the daughter of Mister Fink would be such a total, disgusting, nut job.” She sneered, and then promptly turned on her heels and ran off into the crowd.

You took the next couple of seconds regaining your composure and trying not to be too heartbroken over what Esther had said, and failing miserably. You shakily began to make your way back to the gondola, fighting back tears and sadness the whole way.

Columbia always seemed to have quite a way of stealing all your happiness from you.

~

~Elsewhere, while you are at Lutece Labs~

Fink and Comstock sat across from each other in the latter’s air ship. Documents littered the desk in front of the Prophet. The Papers showed all kinds of graphs and charts, comparing and contrasting the build, health, and personality of two little girls. Fink rested his head on his hand idly, as Comstock checked, and rechecked the graphs.

“Well,” Fink yawned, “Do we have a deal, Comstock?”

Comstock sighed and stared into Finks eyes, “Are you sure about this, Jeremiah? You are really willing to use your own daughter as an experiment?”  
Fink laughed, “Not just willing, eager! And please Father, we both know that girl is not my kin, nor do I particularly want her to be.”

Comstock smirked, “I’m not so convinced. You seemed rather fond of her a few days ago at Battleship Bay. Parading her around, buying her all her heart could ever want… You looked very much the proud father.”

Fink smiled devilishly, “Good, than my act worked. The more people see me as a doting daddy and family man, the more people will support me and my company. ”

“You are a devious man, Fink.”

“As are you, Father.”

Comstock sighed heavily and stared out the window at Columbia as it sailed lazily by, “And what of this girl’s mother, your wife? Doesn’t she have any input in this? After all, for all any of us know, the experiment could go horribly. The lamb is still so young; we aren’t completely sure what her potential is. There is a great chance that your daughter will get hurt. She could even die.”

“Please, Abigail is completely under my control, she is no threat to us. I market this experiment as a chance for (Name) to grow and connect with another child, the child of YOU, no less, and she hops on board no questions asked! She even handed over the girl’s medical history without as much as a second glance! I told you, Comstock, Everything on my end is ready to go.”

Comstock thought Fink’s words over for a moment. A heavy silence filled the room, and all was still except for Fink turning his gold pocket watch round and round in his hands. After a bit of time crept by, a foreboding smile crept on Comstock’s face.

“Then it is settled, “Comstock spoke, “Once Songbird is complete, I believe it is time for your Angel to meet my Lamb.”

~

A/N: BUM BUM BUUUUUUH! Comstock and Fink, you slimy jerk wads! Also, Esther turned out to be a jerk too. :( Downside, scary stuff is about to happen to you. Upside, Elizabeth is finally on her way! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Look forward to more on the way soon! :D


	7. Songbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Songbird, Songbird, see him fly, drop the children from the sky. When the young ones misbehave, escorts children to their grave. Never back-talk, never lie, or he'll drop you from the sky!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here we are with chapter seven! I had a lot of fun writing this one, so I hope you have a lot of fun reading it! You get to meet someone really important at the end of it finally! 
> 
> As always, thank you for sticking with me and continuing to read this! You guys really mean so much to me, and I love you all! Thank you a trillions times over!
> 
> Now, with no more stalling, read on! :D

Life in Columbia had a way of continually forcing you into situations you wanted no part of.

You had been living in the city in the sky for a year at this point, and your opinion on it hadn’t much changed. The more of its underbelly you saw, the uglier it became. You didn’t like to go out in public because when you did, you were always accompanied by Fink. And when you were always with Fink, people started to recognize you as nothing more than an accessory by his side, and that’s exactly what he wanted. You were only to be seen as an adorable, mild mannered young lady taken into Fink’s life out of his pure love and bigheartedness, whisked away to a life luxury from a broken home. Your whole existence in this place revolved around making him look good. Well, you weren’t happy with that at all, so you started to act out. You’d make little comments to people when you were out and about with Fink. You’d tell the well to do ladies their dresses looked horrid on them, or comment to a local politician that his nose seemed too big for his face. And you’d make sure to always correct people when they called Fink your father. Eventually, the beatings when you’d come home after saying these things got so severe, you decided to not talk at all. If you couldn’t speak your mind, you still sure as hell weren’t going to give Fink the satisfaction of your words.

You also hadn’t made a single friend in your first year in Columbia. After your conversation with Esther, what seemed like every parent in Columbia ended up hearing what a “no- good hooligan” you were. As it turned out, Esther’s parents were very prominent in Columbia, and they made sure to waste no time letting every mother and father know what a horrible influence you were. Needless to say, word traveled fast, and soon parents were blocking their children from you at every turn. On top of that, to all the local children you became the number one target to pick on. After several attempts at trying to salvage a relationship with the kids in Columbia, you gave up. In your opinion, it wasn’t worth it for such close minded jerks, anyhow.

Not all was completely dismal, however. Fink wasn’t kidding about you getting a top notch education in Columbia. You had your own private tutor, whom you adored. She treated you with patience and kindness, and she taught you more than you ever learned in schools back home. Also, every Wednesday, she took you on day trips all around the city. Thanks to her, you learned about and saw more of Columbia than you ever would with Fink or anyone else. With her by your side, you actually felt comfortably exploring the vast city, even with so many scrutinizing eyes watching you.

And finally, though it was sparingly, you were in able to get letters to the Lutece’s to send to your family. True, you never did end up getting responses, but you took what little you could get. 

And so, life went on. You were had finally managed to get somewhat comfortable in new life when Fink hit you with a bombshell one rainy afternoon.

“(Name),” He came upon you with a foreboding grin, “are you ready to meet a new friend?” 

~

“This seems like quite a lot of stuff to remember for meeting one stupid little girl.” You spat, reading over the seemingly endless list of things you could and could not do and or say with/to this Elizabeth girl.

“Darling please, “Your mother cooed, as she finished tucking you into bed, “Do you not realize what an honor this is? Nobody but a select few has so much as seen the Lamb, let alone interacted with her! She is the Prophet’s one and only daughter, and you will be her playmate! Does that not excite you in the least?!”

“Why should I be excited to be some spoiled rotten, stuffy child’s playmate?” You huffed.

“(Name), please, think before you speak! This child is of divine origins! She is holy! Heavens, she was born after just-“

“I know her story, mother,” You cut her off, looking deep into her eyes, “I just don’t understand why I have to be the one that has to deal with her! If she’s so holy and important, than why was I the one chosen to spend time with her? What makes me, some half ‘potato-eater’ girl, the proper choice for this? I already told you countless times, I have no interest in making any friends in this place, let alone some hoity-toity “lamb” that is too good for everyone else!”

Your mother’s lips tightened, and her face and voice turned cold, “Why can’t you just ever be grateful (Name)? Your father went through so much to get-“

“FINK IS NOT MY FATHER!” You snapped, anger radiating off your being.

“… Well that sure is a shame, because he, this place, and this opportunity are the greatest thing that could have ever happened in your life.” Your mother hissed, and quickly exited your room.

Once she exited, you grabbed a pillow to muffle your screams and soak up your tears, and didn’t stop until you were fast asleep.

~

“Again.”

“Again?” You groaned at Rosalind’s request. 

It had been nearly two months since Fink told you were to be meeting Elizabeth, and every day since you had spent with Rosalind quizzing and training for when you finally did meet her. The whole ordeal riddled your brain questions. Why did you have to memorize so many rules before meeting a little girl? Was it just because she was seen as a sort of royalty, and was to be treated as such? You surmised that that had to be the reason, though that seemed a little far-fetched. But even if that was the case, that still didn’t explain why you had to go through so many physical tests in the labs at the base of Monument Island. You hated those tests the most, for they always frightened you. The tests were always closely monitored by dozens of people, Fink and Comstock usually included. Watching them whisper back and forth while staring at you getting poked and prodded, their eyes gleaming with ill purpose while devious smiles danced on their lips, filled you with more contempt than you thought imaginable.

“Stop daydreaming and repeat the final rules one more time.” 

Rosalind’s voice pulled you back to where you were, and you repeated mechanically, “Never initiate conversations about ‘tears’, never attempt to leave before the allotted time is up, do not talk about my home town to her, don’t talk about Fink to her, never mention or bring up the Prophet, and if she does so, change the conversation, and always be ready to leave when the songbird calls.”

“Very good. You no longer need your notes and confidently know all the rules by hearts. We’ve gone over all that there is to go over enough times now, I believe you are ready to meet Elizabeth.”

You frowned, “Miss Lutece, I am still extremely lost on all this.”

She peered from her papers and charts to look you in the eye, and you continued, “This girl… She’s only six, right? Why am I so limited in what I can say and do with her? Isn’t the whole goal of me meeting her so that we can both become friends and get acquainted and learn from one another? Well, with all these limits it is going to be hard to connect with her, I feel… I just don’t really understand why all this is needed. Why can’t I just meet her normally?”

Rosalind sighed, “I understand your confusion, but Elizabeth is quite different from other girls in ways you cannot imagine,” She paused a bit before continuing, “Just believe me when I say all this is necessary, for her good, and yours as well.”

“… OK, understood, I suppose… But I do still have one more question.”

“And that is?”

“What does the last rule mean? ‘Always be ready to leave when the Songbird calls’? Does Elizabeth have a trained pet bird?”

An eerily sinister look flashed through Rosalind’s eyes, and her lips deepened to a frown, “Yes, I suppose you could say that. And really I’m glad you brought it up, because that is whom you are headed to meet next.”

~

Nothing could prepare you for the monstrosity you faced next.

Everyone called it a cage, but really it was an entire giant room made out of heavy, thick, wrought iron bars. It was in a secret location that you weren’t allowed to know about, so your eyes were blindfolded for several minutes while Rosalind led you this way and that, finally unclothing your eyes when the destination had been reached. What stood before you was mind boggling. You stood facing a giant, mechanical looking winged beast, larger than any imaginable. He trashed around the cage madly. It was not big enough for him to fully fly, and it seemed to cause him great stress. He was so gargantuan, being near him made you feel like a tiny ant about to be squashed under a huge boot. You stood stiff as a board, watching him in sheer horror as the air from his huge wings made your hair and clothing fly askew, and your eyes water. Every so often, he was let out a tremendous guttural screech, piercing your ears. His talons clawed mercilessly at the iron bars, frantically trying to break free. You wondered where he wanted to get so badly, and realized it had to be anywhere Comstock, Fink, and all these damned doctors and scientists weren’t. Anyone could see this beast was in agony, an agony you could understand. This ‘songbird’ was truly a monster, but you couldn’t help but feel an ounce of heartache and pity for him…

So, what do you think,” Fink called to you, placing his hand roughly on your shoulder and giving you a small shake, “Impressed by your old man’s handy work?”

You wriggled from his grasp, and spoke coldly, “What… is he, exactly?”

“Why, he is the Songbird,” Comstock spoke up, stepping into view, “My lambs protector, and a guardian for all of Columbia.”

“… But what is he? A robot?”

Fink laughed, “Well, I suppose you could say that, but really, he is more of a hybrid man mixed with a powerful and fearsome eagle!”

You cringed at the term ‘hybrid man’. Was there really a human trapped in there? You wouldn’t put it past Fink.

“Well, I have never seen a bird that large before, nor a man, for that matter,” Your eyes stayed focus on the trapped creature thrashing about, “He seems very sad.”

“Well, that just may be,” Comstock spoke, “You see, he misses Elizabeth! For her protection and well-being is his one true purpose and meaning, and being away from her too long always makes him a little moody.”

‘This poor creature is in a state of absolute dismay, not just moody.’ You thought sourly to yourself, but kept quiet. Only one man scared you more than Fink, and that was Comstock. You didn’t dare speak out of line to him.

“Well then, since he is so lonely, why don’t you get in there and cheer him up a bit (Name)?” Fink’s voice suddenly leered, as he clamped both hands firmly on your shoulders.

“WHAT?!” You exclaimed, “Are you crazy?! He’ll tear me to shreds!”

Fink laughed cruelly, “Oh please, his best friend is a girl much like yourself, so he is bound to take a shine to you! Besides, don’t little girls love animals,” He began to walk you forcefully closer and closer to the cage door, and try as you might, you couldn’t stop him, “He’s big, but I assure you, he’s a sweet heart!”

“Fink, please,” You pleaded as your heart raced and sweat engulfed your body, “I’ll die! He’ll kill me! Please, stop it!” 

Your words fell on deaf ears as two scientists rushed to unlock the huge doors, opening them just slight enough to have Fink push you roughly in. As soon as you were in, they were bolted back closed immediately. You pressed yourself against the bars as hard as you could as you began to whimper. You always knew Fink hated you, but to kill you so publicly? Not even he would do something like that, right?

“Well, what are you waiting for;” Fink smiled, and you noted he and the rest of the crew had made their way to the back of the room “Go introduce yourself.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your eyes shooting daggers, “Are you insane?! Please, let me back out, you must understand-“

Your words were cut off by a loud little tune played over a speaker system. You were horrified to see that it not only alerted the Songbirds attention, but directed it fully at you. Your heart nearly stopped, and your breath became ragged and quick. You were pressing so hard against the bars you felt you may have indentations on your skin for the rest of your life. Well, if you survived, that is.

The Songbird made small squawks and began to make his way awkwardly toward you. The ground shook heavily with every step he took, and his eyes shone a bright orange light. You noted that his movements were indeed very birdlike; the awkward scuttle walk, the way he twisted his head this way and that, even his metallic squawking. He stood now before you, mere inches away. Up close, he seemed even more massive. You shut your eyes tight, and let out a shuddering whimper. This was it. This was the end.

But nothing happened. 

You slowly opened your eyes to see Songbird had lowered his head so that it was nearly level with yours. You looked into his eyes and noticed that the color had changed from orange, to green. He cocked his head this way and that, and continued to try and shrink down so that he was more your level. You could hear soft mechanical noises emanating from under his skin, and he also started to make cooing noises that were rather pleasant. Tentatively, you raised your hand to him. Slowly, slowly, slowly your hand raised, palm flat until your hand was right in front of his giant beak. He cooed, and gently nuzzled into your hand. His actions seemed almost delicate, and when you started to gently rub his beak, he happily chirped and leaned in for more. You couldn’t help but laugh in joy. This monster really was nothing to fear.

“Amazing,” You heard Comstock marvel, “He took to her even quicker than Elizabeth; whom he was specifically designed for!”

“It is truly a marvel.” Rosalind added, the tone in her voice making even her seem genuinely surprised.

“Yes, well, what did I tell you? I knew this experiment would go off without a hitch.” Fink spoke, and you noted a sense of annoyance in his voice. It was just like him to be upset about something going in your favor.

So, you decided to rub your new friendship in Fink’s face, and you began to play with the Songbird. When you’d walk away, he’d tuttle after. You hid under his wings, and scratched his belly. He even let you climb up on him a bit. You were having quite a great deal of fun when Fink interrupted you.

“Preparations are complete,” he bellowed, “Are you ready to finally meet Elizabeth?”

stopped what you were doing, and turned to face him, “Today? I thought I wasn’t going to meet her until tomorrow.”

“Plans changed,” Comstock added, “I believe it is high time you girls finally get to know each other. What is the point in waiting any longer?”

You sighed, and nodded your head, “You are right, just give me a second to tell Songbird goodbye.”

“No need for that, child,” Comstock smiled, “Songbird is taking you to her.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, a different sounding whistle blew, and Songbird responded immediately. He wrapped you snuggly in his huge arms, so that you were very secure with little room to move. Once you were tight in his embrace, the ceiling of the cage began to part, and you could feel Songbird eagerly shuffle about while he waited for the opening to be big enough to let him through. Dread and nausea began to encompass you as you realized that once again you’d be taking flight against your will. 

The ceiling was nearly all the way open, and you felt Songbird squat in preparation for take-off.

“Remember what you were taught about Elizabeth,” echoed Comstock’s voice, warningly, “And may the founding fathers protect you, child.”

And you were off. Surprisingly, riding with Songbird was a lot smoother and a lot less terrifying than you thought it’d be. The way Songbird held you close and tight made you feel at ease, and even reminded you a little of when you were very small and your father would rock you in his arms after you awoke from a nightmare. You listened to the sound of his gears turning clunkily in his chest and it clamed your nerves. It was so bright out and you moved so fast, you couldn’t see much of anything, let alone where you were headed. You closed your eyes and cleared your head, feeling the cool wind gently whip your face. You felt at ease, and began to wonder if you could convince Songbird to escape Columbia with you and go back home…

But just as the thought crossed your mind, you noticed Songbird had slowed to a hover, and after you opened your eyes, he gently placed you at the top of Monument Island. It finally hit you how high you were. As you looked down over the whole city, you made a note that the monument towered much higher than any other building in Columbia. Cold wind whipped around you viciously, and moisture clung to your skin from nearby floating clouds. You wobbled a bit, and grabbed a hold of the monument for support, your heart racing. You felt a familiar wet sensation leak from your nose, and placed your hand on it gingerly to see that your nose had started to bleed. You cursed, and pulled a hanky out of your pocket, pressing hard and hopping that it would end soon. Why did it only seem to happen at the most inconvenient times? You heard Songbird screech, and you looked up to see him hovering over you worriedly. “It’s alright,” You shouted, “I’ll be OK! Thank you for taking me!” He reciprocated with another caw, and took off farther into the clouds.

A few minutes after he left, your nose seemed to be under control, and you approached the door to the monument cautiously and made your way in. Just inside, a huge, beautifully decorated lift welcomed you. You realized the lift was probably only ever used by Songbird, and tentatively made your way to the middle of it. As you did, the lift activated, and soon you were being slowly lowered. You started to get intensely nervous; a feeling that took you off guard. You had been so busy prepping to meet Elizabeth that you really didn’t have time to ever imagine what kind of girl she would be. Would she be sweet, or mean? Giving or bratty? You hoped you two would get along, but what if you didn’t? What would Comstock end up doing to you if this meeting went sour, you wondered?

When the lift finally hit the floor, it led you out into an impressively stocked, beautifully decorated library. Huge shelves housed hundreds of books varying from history, to fairy tales. You scanned the spines of some of the books and smiled. If Elizabeth was a reader at least that was one thing you had in common. You quietly began to walk around the room noting little things here and there; A half-eaten chocolate chip cookie, various books scattered open on the floor (all of them seeming to be open to a page that had something to do with Paris), a huge window overlooking the room that bathed everything in a pleasant light. All in all, Elizabeth’s “house” seemed lovely so far. You ran your hand over a small music box on the table, and jumped a bit when it started to play.

“Songbird, is that you?!”

An excited voice called out to you, muffled by the walls that distanced you. You heard excited steps approaching closer and closer, and took the chance to straighten yourself up for the girl’s arrival. You patted your dress, and adjusted your hair bow, a nervous sweat coating your brow. You were almost ready when you heard the door creak open behind you.

“Songbird?” Called a small, cheery voice.

You spun around and came face to face with a beautiful young girl. Her thick chocolate brown hair cascaded freely down her shoulders, and the only thing keeping it from being completely wild was a lopsided bow on her head. She was dressed to the nines in a white and navy sailor style dress, with black tights and buckled shoes to match. A huge bow wrapped around her stomach, poofing out freely in the back. Her skin was incredibly fair, dotted with small, almost unnoticeable freckles, and it looked soft to the touch. She looked at you with complete surprise, and you were taken in by her young eyes. They were the most gorgeous shade of sapphire blue you had ever seen.

“You… aren’t Songbird.” Her little voice spoke, puzzled.

You weren’t sure how to respond, “Um… no, I am not… And that is probably a good thing. I’d have no idea what to do with myself if I were that large!” You finished by laughing nervously.

A small smile formed on her face, and her eyes began to sparkle, “Are you… Are you here to visit… me? May I spend time with you?”

You thought the question odd, but adorable, and smiled brightly at the girl, “Indeed, I am. And yes, of course you may,” You curtsied, “my name is (Name). It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

The girl smiled so brightly and excitedly, you couldn’t help but giggle. She quickly and clumsily mimicked you, and took a deep curtsy.

“My name is Elizabeth, and I am so happy you are here!”

~

A/N: FINALLY LIZ IS HERE!!! WOO HOO! Took us awhile, but we made it! You’ll have to wait a bit more for Booker, but please, stick with me! ;D And hey, Songbird is your buddy! How cool is that?! Yay! Anyway, thank you so very much for the read! I hope you enjoyed it, and I’ll try and bust out the next chapter ASAP! Thank you again, you lovely reader, you! :D


	8. Elizabeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally a friend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Mothra here! Sorry this chapter took so long to get out to you guys, but to make up for it, it’s quite a doozy of a chapter…
> 
> Who is ready for some cute Elizabeth bonding times? Raise your hand! :D
> 
> Anyway, again, thank you all so much for all the comments and love you guys continue to give this story. You are all the most marvelous, and it means so very much to me! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! I love you all!
> 
> That being said, let’s get this show on the road! Read on, little Moth’s!

Elizabeth wasted no time in getting to know you, and despite your prior worries, you were hitting it off with the girl incredibly well.

“(Name), that is such a wonderful name,” Elizabeth smiled, and ran up to you, stopping mere inches from you, “(name), (name), (name)! You are real, right? Not a figment of my imagination?”

You smiled at her odd question, “Why of course I am real! You can feel me, can’t you,” You took her hands and squeezed them playfully, noting that one of her pinkies seemed considerably smaller than the other. You wondered what it was about, but decided against bringing it up. The last thing you wanted to do was offend her. So instead, you squeezed her hands once more, which caused her to giggle, “And I find the name Elizabeth much lovelier than mine!”

She blushed slightly, grabbing your own larger hands in her small ones, “How old are you, (Name)? I am six… Almost six and a half, if you want to get technical!” 

“I just turned ten not too long ago.”

She nodded, and continued, “So we are only four years apart! I hope you don’t think me too childish…”

“Oh no, of course not,” You were quick to speak up, “I mean, we only just met, but you seem so lovely! You are a person I truly want to get to know. And besides, age is just a silly number!” You noticed the intense happiness on Elizabeth’s face, and found it contagious. 

“Do you really mean that? Oh, (Name), I am so excited! I want to know everything about you! Let’s start with… where you live in Columbia! What is it near?”

“Well currently I live in Finkton, but before Columbia I lived in-“You instantly stopped yourself, remembering the rules. You were never supposed to bring up anywhere outside of Columbia, “Um… I don’t really recall where I lived before Finkton, actually.” You lied horribly, but if Elizabeth realized it, she didn’t say anything.

“Finkton, huh,” She looked to be in deep thought, and placed her hands on her hips, “Why there, of all places? From what I gather, Finkton is nothing but industry and underpaid workers.”

You were taken back by Elizabeth’s words, surprised that she knew anything at all about Finkton, let alone the bad side of it, “Well… That is mostly true. It definitely wasn’t my idea to live there. It was my mother and… step fathers.” Giving fink that title made you queasy.

“Is your step father one of Fink’s workers, then?” Elizabeth continued.

You recalled that you also weren’t to mention much about Fink either, and you didn’t particularly want your new friend to associate the two of you anyway, so again you lied, “…I suppose you could say that.”

Elizabeth frowned, “Well in that case, my heart goes out to him. All the books I read glorify Finkton and paint it as the best place of industry in the world, but in reality, it just seems like a horrible place to be. Jeremiah Fink is the only real person who makes a profit, and he does it all off other peoples hard labor. I read that he doesn’t even pay the people real money! I hope that you and your family are getting by OK.”

Again, you were taken by surprise. Not just with Elizabeth’s empathy and intelligence (which was proving to be vast in someone so young) but also by the revelation that Fink didn’t pay any of the people he made slave away for him.

“ Y-you mean, he doesn’t pay them- I mean my father- real money?” You tried to reply as calmly as you could. You didn’t think you could get much more disgusted with Fink than you already were, but the man was chock full of unpleasant surprises. 

Elizabeth nodded sadly, “It’s true. I don’t have much need for money up here on my own, but I know it is very crucial in the world below. To repay people so poorly for their services is not the sign of a good man to me. I apologize to break this news to you. I’d thought you’d have known…”

“It’s OK… I just… I had no idea.” You stomach was in knots as your gaze fell sadly to the ground. All those people you pass daily, slaving away at all hours of the day to manufacture products in Fink’s name, and he doesn’t even pay them real money? What an awful fate…

“Well never mind talk of that horrible place,” Elizabeth waved her hands about, as if to blow away the sad thoughts in the air, “ how did you get in my tower?! We are so high up in the air! I’m having a hard time thinking of way that you’d get up here easily…”

“Well, your Songbird brought me here.” You answered, happy to discuss things other than Fink.

“Really, he did?! How wonderful,” She laughed, “Songbird is a great friend! Unfortunately, he doesn’t talk much. Or really at all, I should say...But he must be a very good listener, because I often tell him that I wish I had a friend to talk to, and now he’s brought me you! I’ll have to remember to thank him!”

You looked hard at the girl, and though her voice was cheery, you couldn’t help but notice the woe that lingered in her eyes after she spoke. Suddenly, it all seemed unbearably cruel. A little girl being locked in a tower her whole life, never knowing anything of the outside world other than what she sees in books and hears from Miss Lutece. A little girl who has never had the joy of a loving parent’s embrace, or the carefree excitement of running around with friends. No, this little girl had the mantle of “Lamb Of Columbia” thrust upon her and as such, was hidden away high above the whole world. How horribly wrong you were to think that she could enjoy this, to think that she thought herself better than everyone else. No, this little girl was a normal human being, someone just like you. And more so, she was broken hearted, just like you.

You sighed heavily to regain your composure, and began to speak again, “Well, Songbird won’t be back for me for quite some time… Would you mind showing me around?”  
The gloom momentarily dissipated from the girl, and was replaced by a beaming smile, “Well of course!!! Please, follow me!”

~

For the next few hours, you and Elizabeth explored every nook and cranny of her tower. She took you from room to room, giving you samples of what each had to offer. In the kitchen, she made you a small sandwich and supplied a glass of milk to wash it down with. In her bedroom, you both dug through her closets and put together ridiculous outfits, and paraded around in them like you were high society. Afterwards, you jumped on the bed (though you both agreed it was an action commonly frowned upon, today was a special day, and you decided it was OK to let it slide just this once) until you were exhausted, and collapsed on each other in a fit of giggles. After a few moments of rest, you retreated to the drawing room, where Elizabeth played you several of her favorite records, none of which you had heard before, but all you found delightful. She offered you her hand in dance, and when you told her you had no idea how to dance, she told you she’d teach you. You whirled around the room, hand in hand, laughing and talking as if you’d known her all your life. 

After dancing, she showed you the rest of the tower, until you both ended up back in the library. You made your way over to one of her towering book cases, scanning until your eyes happened upon your favorite fairy tale.

“Oh, (fav. Fairy tale),” You exclaimed, pulling it from the shelf carefully, “I love this story! It has been one of my favorites since I was very small.” Your mind traveled to distant memories of your sister and you huddled around your parent’s bed as your father read from the fairy tale. You always loved to fall asleep watching his face and hearing his words; they were both always full of passion and love whenever he told a tale. And even though this fairy tale was a commonly picked bed time story by you and your sister, every time he read it, it was as if it were a brand new adventure.

“I love that one, as well,” Elizabeth’s voice broke you from your memories, “How about you read some of it aloud? It’s been a long time since I’ve read it.”

“Really, you want me to?” You asked sheepishly, receiving an excited nod from Elizabeth, “Well… Alright then, I suppose I could…”

You followed behind her as she lead you to a well-lit corner of the library, and proceeded to drag some cushions that were lying about until they were placed in a neat and comfy little pile. You plooped on top of them, and she followed suit, placing her head gingerly on your shoulder. You opened the book, cleared your throat, and began to tell the tale in a way that you hoped would make your father proud. In that moment, with Elizabeth beside you, listening to her slow rhythmic breathing, locked away from the entire goings on in Columbia, the two of you shared true bliss.

~

You both must have dozed off, because the next thing you remembered was the jarring chime that meant Songbird had come back to retrieve you.

You yawned groggily and massaged your eyes with the balls of your palm, “Is it time to go already? I feel like I just got here!”

“It’s been nearly seven hours,” Elizabeth stated, pointing at the clock, “Look, it’s just about ten o clock.”

“Well, I’ll be… You are right,” You stood up, taking Elizabeth’s hand and pulling her up as well, “I guess I really should get going then…”

A heavy silence settled in the air, neither of you eager to part. Not since before your parents started to fight had you felt such joy as you had with Elizabeth, and never before had you connected with another soul as you had hers. The thought of going off and leaving her all alone again broke your heart and you didn’t even want to imagine how she felt.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Your eyes darted to Elizabeth’s and you saw that her whole face had contorted into a look of pain. Tears danced on the brink of her eyes, ready to spill any second.

“Please don’t go (Name),” She choked out, “I don’t ever want to be alone again now that I’ve met you!”

You could no longer restrain yourself. In such a short amount of time, you developed a surprisingly strong bond for this girl, and a deep urge flowed within you to protect her and make her happy. It was an urge stronger than anything you’d felt for anyone, even your own sister. This girl was so very much like you; just two dejected and abused girls locked away in Columbia against your will. Her pain hit you so hard because it was your own pain. You walked to her, and tightly wrapped her in a warm hug, knowing full well it was probably the first one she had ever received. At first her body tensed with surprise, but she began to loosen up, and her small arms even wrapped snuggly around you in return. She buried her wet face in the crook of your neck, and continued to cry for a while. And there the two of you stood, motionless, caught in a moment where there was nothing but you and she, and that was all that mattered.

Eventually, the chime rang again, and you both heard Songbird screeching just outside the tower.

“Elizabeth, I have to go now, but I promise on all that I am that I will be back soon.” You spoke strongly, holding onto her shoulders while staring deeply into her blue eyes.

“Promise?” She sniffled, placing her tiny hand on your cheek.

“I promise.” You kissed her forehead lightly, and made your way onto the lift. Your eyes stayed locked on each other’s until she was no longer in sight.

~

When you made it back to the rest Columbia, Songbird dropped you off at the bottom of Monument tower, where Fink, Comstock, and Miss Lutece were all waiting for you. You wiped the remnants of tears from your eyes as you shakily made your way towards the group. You had no idea what was to happen next, and it frightened you. Did you meet their expectations? Then again, how would they even know how you did without being there themselves? Would they interrogate you now? Would they interrogate Elizabeth? And most importantly… Would they let you see her again?”

“Welcome back Miss (Name),” Comstock was first to speak, his voice eerily calm, “So, what are your thoughts on my Elizabeth?”

“I found her all around lovely, Father.” You spoke shyly, hoping the group would be kind to you.

“That is great news,” He smiled, “Did you girls have fun? What did you do in the hours you were with her?”

“Well… We played a lot… I read to her a bit… She’s even started to teach me how to dance.”

“Did she now? Well, isn’t that something, I bet you two are a sight for sore eye! The two dancing angels of Columbia!” Comstock laughed deep and hearty. You took the laugh as a good sign, “Well then, Miss Lutece, what do you make of this?”

“I say the experiment was a success,” Rosalind’s stern voice spoke, “In fact, I think it went much better than anyone could have anticipated. If it is alright with all whom are present, I would like to continue with these visits and see what comes of this relationship. I believe much is to be learned from these girl’s interactions.”

“I agree, Miss Lutece, and it is certainly alright with me,” Comstock spoke, “I am also very intrigued to see what comes of this little friendship. How about you, miss (Name)? Would you mind spending more time with my daughter?”

Your heart soared at the chance of spending more time with Elizabeth, and a huge smile appeared on your face, “Please sir, I’d be honored,” You tried not to sound too eager, though your whole body quivered with joy, “I’d like very much to spend more time with Elizabeth!!! Thank you for the opportunity-“

“I’m not sure how I feel about it Comstock.” 

Fink’s voice cut you off, and everyone turned to look at him before he continued, “I mean, it all just seems so touchy. Yes, she was fine this time, sure, sure… but what of next time? The lamb has some powerful talents; I’d hate seeing my poor daughter get hurt in all of this.” Fake concern lining his voice, as his eyes tauntingly bore into your own.

Though you were definitely upset that Fink would try and demolish the only relationship that mattered to you in a long time, you were also stewing over what he said about Elizabeth, ‘Powerful talents? What does that mean? I knew there had to be some other reason she was locked away from everyone other than just being Comstock’s daughter… but what is it? What exactly is Elizabeth capable of?’

“Funny,” Rosalind spoke, “that you should show such concern for this girl when just hours ago you shoved her in a cage with a monstrously huge creature that could have taken her life at any moment.”

“You shut your mouth, woman, “Fink snarled, “Songbird is my own creation! Do you really believe I’d create anything that would harm my own child?!”

‘Oh yes, such a constantly caring man, aren’t you?’ You grimly joked to yourself.

“ENOUGH,” Comstock’s voice bellowed, “Jeremiah, if you truly feel this way about your daughters safety, I understand. But know that I feel you are making the wrong decisions,” Comstock stopped speaking for a second, and you saw a menacing look befall his features, a look that made even Fink shudder, “(Name) has nothing to fear, for they are now friends. Is that not right, (Name)? Do you fear my daughter may cause you any type of harm?”

You jumped at Comstock saying your name, “No, sir, not at all. In fact, I have never felt more at ease in all of Columbia than I did up in that tower.”

Comstock smiled deeply, creepily, “See Fink? Now would you deny your beloved daughter of that?”

Fink stared at you long and hard, not even trying to mask the hatred he harbored for you, “I suppose not, Father, I suppose not,” He spoke through gritted teeth, “The relationship has my blessing. She may see The Lamb again whenever you see fit, father.”

“Wonderful,” Comstock beamed, “Now I suggest you take (Name) home now. She’ll want to be nice and rested for her second visit to Elizabeth tomorrow.”

Fink and Comstock proceeded to walk away, and just as you took a step to follow behind, Rosalind quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you over to the side. 

“Take this,” She spoke nonchalantly, and placed a small brass whistle in your hand.

“What is it?” You questioned, twirling it around in your fingers, inspecting the small carving of a music note upon it.

“Think of it as a type of dog whistle, only for a much larger target than a dog. When you blow it, it’ll make a sound only Songbird can hear. Once he hears it, he will come to you,” She kneeled down so that she was face to face with you, “Let no one know that you have it, not even your own mother. Don’t lose it, and only use it sparingly when you are absolutely sure no one will see. We could both be in very grave trouble if anyone ever catches you summoning the Songbird on your own…Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded, “Yes, Miss Lutece. Thank you for this gift,” You stared down at the whistle in your hand again, “but I am little lost, why are you trusting me with this to begin with?”

But by the time you looked back up, she was already gone.

“(NAME),” You heard Fink bellow in the distance, “What is keeping you, child? Hurry up!”

“COMING SIR!” You called in response, pocketing your tiny treasure while you ran after the men.

~

That night, after you got home, you were much too excited about all that had (and would continue to) conspire the next day to sleep. You lay wide awake in your bed, thoughts of Elizabeth invading your brain. What would you do tomorrow? More dancing, more playing, more reading? You were so delighted to have found a friend! The only downside to her was that being around her also reminded you so much of the time you spent with your sister. It had been such a long time since you had heard from her, and she felt so many worlds apart from you… You prayed every night that the Lutece’s would be able to reach them for you, but even after a year you had yet to hear any positive feedback.

“She met her today?! Jeremiah, how could you! She wasn’t supposed to meet her for another week, and only after I had been there to see her off!”

You heard your mother’s heated voice from down the stairs, and made your way out of bed and closer to the door to hear the argument better. It was very rare for your mother to speak out against Fink over anything, but lately, she seemed more and more on edge, especially at matters involving you. You surmised it to being because of the lack of communication with your sister or grandparents, though it was hard to tell. Your mother could be very hard to read sometimes. And though she was very patient and loving with Fink, not being able to contact her loved ones back home was eating away at her, and every day it was becoming more and more apparent. In turn, your mother began to fret over you constantly.

“Darling, please,” You heard Fink’s calm, sugar coated voice reply, “Relax! It was not my idea, but Father Comstock’s! I tried to explain how important it was that you be there for the event, but he just wouldn’t listen! You know how impatient he can be!”

“It doesn’t matter Jeremiah,” You swore you heard tears in her voice, “(Name) is MY daughter, and as such, my responsibility! I am in charge of all decisions when it comes to her, even if it is the Prophet I am up against!”

“I understand, dear.”

“I don’t want her to see that girl again. I mean that, Jeremiah.”

Your heart sank. ‘Mother… No!’

You heard Fink sigh heavily, “Abigail. Do you really think that is a fair decision? Your daughter has been through a lot coming here. She hasn’t made any friends, and she misses her sister just as much as you do. I am doing the best I can to work with the Lutece’s to get correspondence with your other daughter, but know it is not an easy task, and I don’t know how much longer (Name) can hold out without a peer to befriend. Simply put, the girl is lonely… But this child has become close to her. You heard her gush incessantly about Elizabeth when she came home. That was genuine, Abigail… Will you really take that away from her?”

It was painfully quiet for the next few seconds, and all you could hear was the blood rushing from your heavily beating heart. After what seemed like hours, your mother finally spoke.

“Alright,” She quietly said, sounding defeated, “You are right. She can continue to see the girl. But I will be there next time to see her off, and at the first sign of danger, (Name) is leaving and not coming back.” 

“Understood,” Fink replied, “Now let’s get to bed, love. Today has been trying for everyone.”

~

And so, for the next month, you spent three full days out of each week with Elizabeth. In your time together, you learned all kinds of things about your new friend. Her favorite color was blue, and her favorite food was shepherd’s pie and chocolate cake. She enjoyed (and was rather skilled at) dancing and drawing, and she spent much time teaching you these talents. You paid her back by trying to teach her how to sew, at which she tried hard, but sadly wasn’t much good at (which was alright, considering you had a heck of a time keeping in step with her music, as well as sketching the simplest things). You learned that her heart ached to travel the world, and she divulged in you that every night she prayed with all that she was that she would end up in Paris someday. You knew you weren’t supposed to discuss the world below, let alone feed her desire to explore it, but you couldn’t help it. You scoured Columbia for all books pertaining Paris, and snuck them to her on visits You’d spend hours reading them together, plotting out where you would go, what you’d do, and all sorts of random adventures you would partake in. The two of you even studied the French language together in preparation for future trips. In just a month’s span of time, the bond between the two of you grew unprecedentedly strong. Sometimes, it even felt like you could read her mind.

Towards the end of the month, Rosalind informed you that though the experiment was going splendidly, visits with Elizabeth would start getting increasingly shorter, as well as with more time in between them.

“So… When will I see her again after this visit?” You asked Rosalind before headed off with Songbird.

“After a week,” She responded, “You will now only be seeing her every other week.”

You didn’t take to this news well at all, but Elizabeth took it much worse. At the end of your final visit for a while, she cried and cried, and nothing you said or did could console her.

“Elizabeth, it will be OK,” You cooed to her, hugging and rocking her gently, “It’s true we won’t spend as much time together, but that doesn’t mean we won’t see each other at all! A week seems pretty long, but I promise it will go by quickly!”

She sniffled, “A day is too long, let alone a week! And don’t you see? Now it may only be a week, but they are going to put more and more time between us, I know it! At some point, we may not even be able to see each other at all!”

Later that night, Elizabeth’s words and sorrows still resounded in your head. Was she right, were they really trying to put time between you so that they could eventually separate you? That couldn’t be right, why would they go through all this trouble to put the two of you together, just to tear you apart? What good would that do anybody? You sighed heavily, ‘I don’t think they plan on separating us completely… At least not for a long time… I just hate thinking of Elizabeth sad and alone, it kills me inside! I wish there was some way I could console her from here…” Your thoughts drifted off when something in the corner of the room caught your eye. Slowly, a smile crept on your face, and you rushed from bed to grab the whistle Rosalind had gave you, as well as the voxophone your mother had given you not so long ago…

~

It was nearly midnight when Elizabeth was awoken by Songbirds arrival. Confused and disoriented, she climbed out of bed and shuffled hurriedly to meet him. She tiredly waited for the lift to lower, allowing the huge creature into her space.

“Songbird,” She yawned tiredly, “What is it? Why are you here so late?”

He cooed pleasantly, and shuffled over to Elizabeth’s fatigued form. When he was just beside her, he lifted his hulking wing, under which a large pocket was. This pocket was usually used to transport food, books, clothing, or anything else Elizabeth might need. But this time, something foreign greeted the small girl. She went to Songbird, and pulled the strange item out tentatively. After she got it in her hands, she realized it was a voxophone. She had never used one before herself, but saw them countless times, usually in the presence of Miss Lutece. She flipped it over gingerly in her hands, and saw a note saying ‘To Elizabeth’ inscribed on the side. The handwriting was yours.

“Oh, thank you Songbird,” Elizabeth exclaimed before throwing her arms around the creatures large beak, “Thank you so much!”

He cooed happily, and nuzzled the girl a bit before making his way back out of the tower, and once again into the sky. Once he was gone, Elizabeth hurriedly set to work figuring out how the voxophone played. After a bit of prodding and poking, your voice began to fill the room.

“Elizabeth,” You voice questioned, and hearing it brought the small girl nothing but happiness, “Oh good, it looks like this thing is working! It’s (Name), as I’m sure you’ve figured out. I was given this voxophone to do whatever I choose with it, and I couldn’t think of a better thing in the whole world than to send a message to you! I know you are lonely up there, but please don’t worry. From where I sit in Finkton, I can see your tower perfectly. Each night I go to sleep looking at it, my heart at ease and full of joy knowing that the dearest friend I could ever hope to meet is so near to me. I love you Liz, and I will see you very soon!”

Recently, Elizabeth’s nights had been abominable, plagued with night terrors and insomnia. But that night, she slept sounder than she had in as long as she could remember, clutching your voxophone tightly to her chest.

~

A/N: Awwww! I really hope you guys liked this one. I love Elizabeth, and honestly, your relationship with her is as important as your relationship with Booker, so I wanted to make it a strong one! I figured as a wee one, Elizabeth would be incredibly excitable, a little attention craved, pretty damn lonely, and very, very smart. So, I tried to write her that way as best I could!

Also, I made her favorite food shepherd’s pie because of the false shepherd himself, Mister Booker Dewitt… whom is coming up in this story, I promise!!! Anyway, all kinds of stuff happened in this one. I hope I didn’t confuse anyone too much! Thanks for the read, and sorry for the long wait! I hope the long chapter really did make up for it! :D More soon, my lovelies!!!


	9. As Time Passes By...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years pass, things change, but Elizabeth and you stand strong through it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here we are with chapter 9! There is quite a few time skips in this one, so sorry if it’s a little confusing. But time skips just mean we are sneaking closer and closer to the events of Bioshock Infinite (and Booker)! >:D
> 
> Also, thank you so, so, SO much for all the reads, kudos, and reviews, especially for the last chapter! You readers are all brilliant, and I am so happy and delighted that my humble fanfiction is keeping you entertained! Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
> 
> With that being said, read on my little moths! Chapter 9 is GO!

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and months to years. Life carried on in Columbia, with you residing and growing up within it, and all the while, Elizabeth growing right up with you.

As you aged your relationship grew nothing but stronger. The more time that crept by, the more you and Elizabeth learned about each other.

This included learning the real reason she was being locked in the tower.

~

You had known her for a year at this point, and she had become an indescribably important force in your life. 

You and Elizabeth had become a sort of safe haven for each other. You were the person she could tell all her hopes, dreams, and fears to without any fear of judgment or having to worry about you relaying any secrets to anyone. She showed you the same kindness, and though her tower was very much a prison, to you it had become an escape. In the tower with Elizabeth it was just the two of you. There were no prodding scientists or doctors, no judgmental hateful citizens, no Comstock, no Fink. In that tower there was just Elizabeth and her laughter, and books, and excitement to see you. She always greeted you with a smile and a huge hug, and more often than naught she’d also have a gift for you. Whether it’d be a drawing she did, or a sweet she had tucked away to share, they never failed to warm your heart. You would return the favor for your friend by sneaking her up little treats from your favorite vendors in Columbia, or small little accessories that you had sown. Once, you gave her a small, beautifully decorated, thimble which she triumphantly placed upon her pinky, declaring herself free from the burden of hideousness (even though you constantly reassured her hands were perfectly normal). She was so fond of the thimble that it ended up becoming a ‘fashion statement’ she continuously wore. 

Another gift you often lent her was your father’s book. She’d keep it in her company for days at a time (even though you were very protective of it, you always knew it was safe and cared for with Elizabeth), and you’d return to her eager to hear what tales ended up being her favorites. 

But your most common gift by far was sheet music which Fink’s brother (a much kinder man than Jeremiah) freely gave to you whenever he’d stop by for a visit. You in turn shared the music with Elizabeth, and you would both sing in harmony until your throats were dry and cracking. These moments were your most happy.

As time kept marching forward, you also began to divulge secrets to Elizabeth that previously were strictly forbidden. At first, you were terrified to see what they would do to you if you slipped up on rules, but after saying a few off limits things here and there with no repercussions, you decided it was high time you stopped lying to your friend and tell her all there was to know. 

So you explained everything, starting from your early childhood. You told her all about the divorce and the remarriage to Fink. You talked all about your home in New York, and the father and sister that you loved and left behind. Still unable to truly reach them, you whispered to her darkly that you’d fear you’d never hear from them again. You wept as you recounted your first meetings with Fink, and all the harm he had bestowed upon you along the way. You filled her in on all that had happened to you in Columbia, the good and bad. You explained the joys of Battleship bay and thrill you’d get from buzzing around in a gondola. You also relayed to her the cruel beating of the child with the broken toy, and how her screaming face haunted you to this day. And through the whole story she sat and listened, completely engrossed, hands holding tightly to yours. She wiped your tears in the sad parts and beamed at the happy parts. She only stopped you to ask you little questions here and there, mainly about your family. Questions such as, “What song did your father sing to you the most to put you to bed?” Or, “Did your sister tease you often?” You knew she asked these questions because she had never known what it was like to be around family, and you were concerned that at first it may make her too sad to hear such stories about familial love. But whenever you’d bring up your father or sister she appeared to enjoy hearing about them, so you never limited your stories.

After you spilled your life to Elizabeth you felt much better, like a huge weight had been lifted your chest. For whatever reason though, you noticed that Elizabeth’s facial expression has twisted into a scrunched up, disgruntled mess. She fidgeted violently, and you noticed a small layer of sweat form on her skin, making her appear almost glossy.

“Elizabeth,” You asked worriedly, “Are you OK? My stories didn’t upset you, did they?”

Her eyes darted up at you, and she quickly shook her head, “No, that isn’t it at all!!! It’s just that… Well… Um…”

“What is it Lizzy? You can tell me,” you placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You’ll feel better once you get it off your chest, anyway.”

She hesitated for a moment, staring warily into your eyes. You were confused, never before had you seen her in such a state. Usually she was chatting up a storm, willing and eager to tell you everything about anything. But her awkward (scared, even) quietness threw you for a loop. You didn’t like it at all.

“Do you promise,” She finally spoke, her voice dark and with a serious edge that caught you off guard, “PROMISE me you won’t think I’m a freak.”

“A freak? Elizabeth, what are you-“

“PROMISE ME!” Her raspy scream jolted you, and it was followed by her tears.

“Elizabeth… I would not in a million and a half centuries find you a freak in any way or form! Seriously, you could have seven heads and a tail and you still wouldn’t be freaky to me,” Your words got a ghost of a smile out of you, which put you at ease, “Now please, tell me what you are so worried about, it’s killing me!”

She stared at you solemnly for a moment, before nodding her head quickly, “Watch closely.”

She stood, and took five short strides till she was facing the wall next to the two of you in her bedroom. At first, you were puzzled. She had her hands up, and it looked like she was pulling as hard as she could. Her motions reminded you of someone who was ripping into a huge package, only she seemed to be pulling at nothing other than thin air. You had no idea what she was attempting, before slowly something started to appear. A space materialized between her fingers, small and dark at first, but growing larger as she pulled. You quickly stood, and made your way over to her, watching her as she pulled and pulled this new world into existence. Finally, with one giant swoop of her arms, the wall of her bedroom had been replaced with a grand balcony overlooking what appeared to be a spectacular parade. There were streamers and balloons, men walking by on huge stilted legs, and beautiful dolled up women waving atop large floats. People crowded the streets, cheering and laughing. You were just about to lean closer, when with a zap, it all went away.

You turned to Elizabeth excitedly, “Elizabeth, how did you do that?!”

“… I… I’m not really sure, actually,” She responded sheepishly, “A few years ago I got this urge to explore new places, and I felt in my bones that if I just tried hard enough, maybe I could pull those places into reality… And well, one day I tried and it worked. Miss Lutece calls them tears; she manufactures them as well, but needs her lab to do so. I’m not really sure why I can just make them *anywhere… But I can…. Oh, (Name), I didn’t scare you, did I?”

You shook your head, “Scare me? Of course not, I think it’s fantastic! Believe it or not, this isn’t, my first time seeing one of these tears, it’s actually how my mother and I ended up coming to Columbia.”

“Really? So… you don’t think I’m weird?”

You laughed, “Of course not, I’m actually sort of jealous! How does it feel to open them? Can you open them to lead wherever you want? How long do they usually last?!”

She smiled brightly at your enthusiasm, “Well, it feels kind of tingly and strange, like when your hands fall asleep… And though I can open them anywhere, most of the time they end up being random locations, not places I pick. When I first started opening them I felt like I had more control, I could pick and choose where and when I wanted them to show me. But lately… they have just all been random, and only staying for short amounts of time,” She sighed heavily, “Sometimes I feel like the whole reason they locked me up here is because I can open them, but I am still so confused as to what it all means… The ‘Specialists’ that run all sorts of tests on me can’t even figure me out, apparently.”

“How very interesting,” You plopped yourself back on her bed, before turning to look her in the eyes, “Well, regardless of what everyone else thinks, I find your power grand! Please, tell me more about your tears! I want to know of all the places you’ve seen!”

She smiled, and ran to sit next to you, “Only if you promise not to tell a soul that I showed them to you. I don’t want them to take you away from me forever!”

“But of course! Now, tell me some stories!”

~

The year was 1901, and Columbia had grown and changed with the times. Most recently, in a defiant act, Comstock called to attack the citizens of Beijing, an incident that would come to be known at The Boxer Rebellion. Many loyal residents in Columbia whole heartedly backed the Prophet, your mother and Fink unfortunately being two of them. The rest of America (including you) saw things differently, and a permeable tension had grown between the states and Columbia.

There had also been quite a bit of unrest between the Vox Populi, a recently formed radical group in support of the working man (that you secretly rooted for), and the Columbian military. Battles and riots would spring up here and there, most all of them taking place in Finkton (seeing as a large portion of Vox lived and worked around that area). Because of this, traveling had become quite the chore in Finkton. Now, anytime you were to go anywhere you now needed to be constantly accompanied by a police officer. Needless to say, getting away from it all and visiting Elizabeth in her tower was a much welcomed escape from the fighting and riots. And in her tower was where you found yourself now.

“Are you sure, I mean ABSOLUTELY SURE there is no way for you to get the key?” An eight year old Elizabeth begged, looking slightly crazed as she laid sprawled out on the floor, utterly defeated for the twentieth (or was it thirtieth?) time by the huge, cast iron lock that kept her separated from the whole rest of the world.

You shook your head sadly, kneeling at her feet, “You know I can’t, Elizabeth. They barely tell me anything, let alone where the key to set you free is. And please don’t ask me to bring it up to them again. The last time I showed any interest what so ever they barred me from seeing you for three months!”

Elizabeth sighed over dramatically, “Well, it’s not my fault you are so lousy at being sneaky and persuasive.” She finished by sticking out her tongue playfully.

“Oh be quiet,” you scoffed, shoving her feet jokingly, “I’d like to see you go up against a room of scary scientists and Columbian officials and ask such touchy questions while maintaining a mask of complete innocence. It’s right near impossible!”

“I know, I know,” She sat up beside you, ruffling her messy hair, “This is all just so frustrating… Do you think there may be more than one key? Do you think there is any chance that one key is less guarded than the other?!”

You hated to dash the sparkling hope in her eyes, but spoke truthfully anyway, “Elizabeth, I know for a fact there is only one key, and the Prophet keeps it God knows where… Somewhere I’m sure that is heavily monitored and guarded at all times. Heck, there are probably several keys locked up by several keys just to get to your key,” You sighed, “Have you tried getting it via tear, recently? If we could just open a portal to it we’d probably be able to pull it through…”

“I never stop trying to open a tear that’ll help me escape, but the results are always fruitless,” She pouted, “Hey, how are you so sure there is only one key when they barely tell you anything?”

You sighed, “Don’t be difficult. Rosalind told me way back when I first started seeing you. I asked her if I would get a key to get into your tower, to which she said, ‘Girl, there is but one key to that child, and I can assure you that barely anyone but Comstock has seen the key, let alone held it. If I were you, I wouldn’t ask any more questions of it again.’ “ You finished in your mock Rosalind accent, before continuing on, “She told me this right after explaining how the lock to your tower was the most complicated one in existence, even more complicated than the ones on bank vaults.”

“Great,” Elizabeth groaned, “Just great. At this rate, I’ll be ninety by the time I bust out.”

You reached out to her, gently wrapping your arms around her slumped shoulders, “You know if I could, I’d demolish this lock. Completely destroy it, turn it into dust! And then you and I could call Songbird, and fly off someplace brilliant!”

She rested her head on your shoulder, “I dream of that more often than I’d like to admit, actually. Could you imagine, though? We could make a new life for ourselves in Paris! I know we are both so young, but I’m sure we could make it somehow. I can pass off my tear abilities as parlor tricks, and you could sing, and we’d rake in all kinds of earnings!”

You laughed at Elizabeth’s tireless optimism, “Yes, because whom in all of Paris wouldn’t want to see that act? Two misguided little girls doing weird stunts with their enormous ‘pet’ bird? You’d be crazy to miss out!”

Elizabeth joined you in laughing, “I’m telling you, you poke fun, but we’d be stars!!!”

You were delighted to see Elizabeth laughing, especially when so many of her lock picking trials ended in tears and anger. You tried your best not to be useless to her in her escape endeavors, but it was truly impossible for you to even hope of ever getting the key to release her. Besides, even if you did, where would the two of you go? How would you get out of Columbia, let alone to where you wanted to go? Songbird was loyal to Elizabeth, but only in regards to her safety, which meant locked away in her tower. The horrible, all-encompassing truth was how hopelessly stuck you and Elizabeth were. Lock picking gave Elizabeth hope, however, and you’d be damned if you would take that from her. So you helped your friend, even going so far as to risk being caught and bringing her supplies that may aid in her freedom. But again, if anyone ever noticed you doing it, they never tried to stop you. 

The laughter had died down, and you and Elizabeth sat in a comfortable silence. After a few moments she sighed, and wiggled from your arms, standing up defiantly.

“Well,” She looked down at you with a lopsided smirk, “Better luck next time, right?”

~

The Boxer rebellion ended up changing the history of Columbia.

America recalled the city in the sky, and Columbia responded by seceding from the union, floating off, never to be seen by land again.

The citizens rejoiced, but you found no happiness in this news. The final string had been cut, and there would be no more access to the land below you. You worried for the future of your father and sister. To this day, you still never got a response from either, leading you to wonder if they were getting what you wrote at all. But you still kept at it, clinging to the last few threads of hope that your family was still reachable.

Columbia wasn’t the only thing that had changed however; Elizabeth herself had also matured and was now a young woman. Now thirteen, Elizabeth was no longer the child she used to be. She had hit puberty, started her period, and her body was undergoing it’s transformation into adulthood. Not too long ago, the same had happened to you, so you made sure to be there for her every awkward and scary step of the way, through mood swings, cramps, and all the other fine emotions and happenings that came with being a teenager. Even through this stage of life, your friendship never wavered. True, you did have spats and small fights now and again. You even had a large dispute on the eve of her thirteenth birthday, one that was so intense you were frightened it would totally end the friendship. However, even though the worst your love prevailed. 

But with age, not only Elizabeth, but you yourself became restless and increasingly angry. Though you grasped the evils of Columbia when you were a child, now that you were seventeen, you could no longer be shielded and live in childish ignorance of how completely rotten Columbia truly was any longer. 

You had seen firsthand the corrupt votes of the people of power in Columbia. You watched as Fink made his way house to house taking out any opposition that may stand in the way of whom he and Comstock wanted to rule as elected officials in Columbia. You were forced year after year to participate in ‘The Raffle’, a horrid showcase of hate and murder as innocent citizens would be slaughtered on stage, just for having the misfortune of being born with darker skin. You knew all about Columbia’s “hospital” for people with “mental illnesses”. The hospital was a beautifully sterile building with the façade of being a caring and loving place of healing… But you knew that deep within its walls, Vox supporters were taken in droves to be crudely lobotomized, living out the rest of their days as nothing but listless husks. 

And possibly the worst of all was the shanty towns, a cesspool of disease and agony, and a place where Finkton workers were forced to live. You had only visited them once with Fink on one of his routine visits to the police station in the town, but one time was more than enough. Try as you could, you were never able to push the sights of those tortured souls out your mind. The agony on their faces as they groveled for basic human necessities while you and Fink just strolled by made you sick. Fink even made a grave warning that if you were ever to step too far out of line, he’s make sure you’d end up down there permanently. 

You longed to share these horrors with Elizabeth, to help get them out of your head, but most of them you kept to yourself. In some ways it was a blessing that Elizabeth was locked away from all this, and you wanted her to keep that innocence for as long as she could. 

The two of you worked tirelessly, however, coming up with any conceivable way to escape. You worked until your brains felt like mush, dreaming up everything from using explosives to escape, to creating a flying device. All of them were hopelessly unrealistic, however.

“I just wish there was some way to make your tear ability more powerful,” You sighed tiredly, slumped over a desk opposite Elizabeth, “I really feel like that would be the perfect way to escape… Maybe even the only way to escape.”

“Tell me about it,” Elizabeth stated aggravated, “But I just can’t make tears like I could when I was really little anymore. Believe me, all I do is try, and try, and try!” She finished by slamming her fist on the table.

You placed your hand gently atop her fist, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you… I know this isn’t your fault… It’s just all so frustrating.”

“And stupid,” She added, uncurling her fist and intertwining her fingers with yours, “(Name)… Do you really think we can do this,” She lowered her voice to barely a whisper, “Maybe… Maybe we should just give up. “

You slammed your hands roughly on the table, pushing yourself up and jolting Elizabeth, “NO. We will NOT give up. Elizabeth… this is hard. Impossible, insurmountably difficult…. But damned if I am just going to give up! There is life outside this tower, outside this nightmare city, and goddamn it, we deserve that life,” You knelt next to your friend, looking her dead in the eye, “We are getting out of here somehow, and I am taking you to Paris someday, whether you help me or not. That is a promise I’m staking my life on.” You finished strong, holding up your pinky for her to seal the deal.

She looked at it surprised at first, and then began to smirk, “Really, a pinky promise? You couldn’t think of something better,” She stated, holding up her missing little finger for you to see, “How rude, Miss Fink!” 

And you both laughed, heartily and happily. One of your all-time favorite things about this girl was even in times of severe stress and dismay she could always bring a genuine smile to your face. The two of you were so caught up in each other that you almost didn’t hear the whistle beckoning Songbirds return.

“Oh,” You said, wiping your watering eyes, “I guess it’s time for me to go, huh?”

“I hate that damned bird,” Elizabeth cursed, rubbing her eyes as well, “Sometimes I wish it’d dive into the ocean and never return.”

You frowned, “Elizabeth, you know this isn’t Songbird’s fault. He’s just-“

“’Following his duties, and I should hate the people that made him, not him’, I know, I know,” She sighed heavily, “But you must admit, if he wasn’t around, escaping would be a whole lot easier.”

You shrugged. Songbird was one thing you and Elizabeth had a hard time agreeing on. You felt nothing but pity for the poor thing to this day, while Elizabeth grew to hate him and saw him no longer as a trusted guardian and friend, but now as a warden. Honestly, you couldn’t blame her though.

You said your goodbyes, and Songbird flew you all the way back to Finkton, dropping you off gently on the front steps of the mansion. You patted his beak and waved goodbye, watching as he soared off into the night. You had just reached to open the door, when it surprised you by swinging open on its own. Standing in your way was Robert Lutece.

“Uh, g-good evening,” You stuttered, being taken completely off guard, “I didn’t expect to see you here, Mister Lutece. To what do we owe the visit?”

He looked down at you with the signature bored Lutece expression, and spoke calmly, “My sister sent me with news. Your mother and Fink just received it, and in turn, will tell it to you,” He paused a bit before continuing, and for a brief moment you saw his expression falter, “Rosalind wants you to know she sends her sympathy.”

“Sympathy… whatever for?” You responded worriedly, but Robert had already begun to briskly walk away, and was soon off the property all together. 

You rushed through the doors and heard your mother making a horrible mix of screaming and crying noises, guttural and raw. You followed them to the drawing room, busting through the door to find your mother a collapsed mess on the floor with Fink right next to her, hands on her shoulders and whispering in her ear.

“Mother, what’s wrong?!” You worriedly cried, fear lining your features.

She looked up at you with puffy red eyes, her whole face awash with tears, “Oh (Name), my darling daughter… Your sister… my God, your sister!!!”

She couldn’t finish, and slumped back down to a blubbering mess on the floor. Fink sighed heavily, and pulled a piece of paper you hadn’t noticed previously from your mother’s hands. He made his way briskly over to you, a deep frown set upon your face.

“Here,” He roughly said, shoving the paper your way, “Mr. Lutece just stopped by with this pleasant news.”

You shakily grabbed the paper, and quickly scanned it with your eyes. It was hard to read with your quaking body and blurry, watery eyes, but you saw what you needed to understand the situation. Scanning the paper, your eyes locked onto key words and fragments: Katherine’s name over and over, and the name of her abbey. There was a fire. The whole building burned to the ground. You sister… She was inside.

The paper fluttered from your hands and you slunk hard to the floor. You seemed to have lost control of your body as it was ravaged by sobs and shakes. You felt as if you were a vase that had been teetering on the edge of a table for a long time that someone had finally bumped into, causing you to crash and break into tiny, unrecognizable pieces.

“My condolences,” Fink stated roughly, before returning to your mother’s side.

~

“Huh-wha?!”

Elizabeth was startled awake by Songbirds whistle. After you had left, she had settled herself into the comfiest chair in the library, and dug her nose deep into the book that you had leant to her, your father’s book. She had dozed off somewhere in the middle of her favorite story in the book, and had been asleep since. She groggily turned her head around to see that it had been exactly one hour since you had left.

“Stupid bird,” She muttered, stretching and letting out a yawn, “Waking me up from a perfectly pleasant nap… WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY EVEN WANT THIS LATE?” She finished with an annoyed scream.

And that’s when she heard the elevator lift creak into action. With an annoyed sigh, she crawled from her comfort space, and slouched in front of the lifts entrance, hands on her hips and scowl on her mouth, ready to give Songbird a piece of her mind.

“Just what do you think you are doing, coming here so late? I was trying to-“

Her words were hushed when the lift landed, doors opened, and none other than you were standing there. You looked a mess, you dress was askew and your stockings and shoes were caked in mud, as if you had run through a wet field. Your hair was sticking every which way, and your face was red and glossy with tears. Your body swayed unsteadily, back and forth, and Elizabeth was afraid any moment you might fall over. But what bothered her most was how empty your eyes were, as if all that was inside you had fallen out and just a shell remained. You looked so very, very small.

“(Name),” Elizabeth breathlessly whispered, worried deeply by your state, “What happened? Why are you here so late? Is everything alright?!”

You looked up at her, slowly, every movement a painful endeavor, “Elizabeth,” You whispered hoarsely, “My sister is… dead.” 

Saying it aloud was the final straw, causing you to collapse. In no time, Elizabeth was by your side, holding your shuddering form in a tight embrace.

“What do you mean,” She spoke sadly, “How could you know that?!”

“Mr. Lutece, he came to our house,” You blubbered, “He had her death certificate! Oh God, Liz… I didn’t even get to say goodbye… Christ, I didn’t get enough time with her at all! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

You could speak no more, and you let your sadness take you. Elizabeth set to work taking care of you. She changed you from your dirty clothes into fresh sleeping ones. She dunked a hand towel in warm water, and proceeded to dab the still falling tears away with it. She made you your favorite tea, and placed you in her bed, making sure to surround you with extra pillows and blankets. She sat with you, your head resting on her lap, and read to you from your father’s book. After a while, she had succeeded in calming you down, she declared that you needed to get some sleep. As she went to turn off the light, she joked that the two of you finally got that sleep over you always wanted, a request that was always shut down outright with previous attempts. You wanted to smile for your friend, but you couldn’t. After the lights were off, she crawled back into bed with you, assuming the same position as before. She lightly stroked your hair, and you were nothing but grateful to not be alone in the darkness right now. The night was coldly silent for what seemed like forever, when you heard Elizabeth’s soft and beautiful voice caress your ears.

There are loved ones in the glory  
Whose dear forms you often miss  
When you close your earthly story,  
Will you join them in their bliss?

You shut your eyes, and clutched tightly to her. Her voice sounded so heartfelt… so calming.

Will the circle be unbroken  
By and by, by and by?  
Is a better home awaiting  
In the sky, in the sky?

You wanted to hear the rest of the song, but your body could do no more. You drifted off into a dreamless slumber, Elizabeth holding you in her arms.

~

*The siphon isn’t put into place until 1904, four years after this part in the chapter takes place. I figure before the siphon, she was much more powerful, but as a child she wasn’t quite sure how to harness her full potential, thus her tears being a bit wonky… At least, that’s how I worked it out in this story!!! 

~

A/N: Wow. Way to end it happy and strong there, Mothra! I’m sorry, guys… Her death was necessary, though, if that’s any condolence (which is isn’t).

But happy stuff! Cute times with Lizmeister! She got the thimble idea from you!!! Awww! :D You give each other presents and stuff! How cute is that?! It’s not all sad! :D

Anyway, thank you so much for the read… Also, I want to let you guys know that I typically write a few chapters in advance before posting them, and as it stands right now, I have it planned that we should be getting to Mister Booker Dewitt by chapter 14. I know that is a little ways off… But I promise we are chugging and will get there soon! If you can just make it to that point with me, you will be rewarded (I’ve been keeping his pacified with alcohol and cotton candy until then)! Thank you so much for putting up with me and being such great readers. I love all you little Songbirds! :D


	10. (Side Chapter One) Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth is turning 13, and the event should be joyous, however...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello one and all, it’s I Mothra here with the first little ‘side chapter’ of Songbirds Calling While Angels Are Falling! Yay! Lucky for you guys, it’s a happy, fun filled chapter centered on you and Elizabeth fighting! YA-wait, what?! That isn’t happy at all!!! … But don’t fret! It gets real cute towards the end, I promise! :D
> 
> As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! You guys are all just the best, and you mean the world to me! Also, thank you so much for all your kind reviews! They keep me going! And, SUPER SPECIAL AWESOME SHOUTOUT TO RYZI FOR DEDICATING AN AMAZING BOOKER ONE SHOT TO ME AND JUST BEING AN ALL AROUND MARVELOUS PERSON SHE IS THE BEST GO READ HER STUFF! 
> 
> With that said, I hope you enjoy! Read on!!!

Today marked exactly one month until Elizabeth’s thirteenth birthday and for the past several weeks you had been fretting over just how you wanted it to take place. In past years, it had been quite easy. Elizabeth was always content to take part in whatever you had planned for her that day, whether it be taking all the furniture in the tower and building a huge castle out of it in the library (like you did when she turned eight), or spending the whole day filling a beautiful new journal you bought her full of whatever stories came into your heads (much like how her eleventh birthday went down). But now that she was becoming more of a woman and less of a child, you were stumped as to what to plan for her party. She had been feeling quite moody and grumpy as of late, often snapping at you for the smallest of things. The last thing you wanted to do was plan a party that would only make her grumpier.

“So,” You sighed, plopping your body down next to Elizabeth as she was sprawled out on her bed, eyes darting over the pages of a magazine, “Have you given any thought to what you might want to do on your birthday?”

“Don’t you usually try and plan something for me, like a surprise or something?” She retorted, and you noticed her voice sounded rather agitated.

“Well, yes, that’s true. I usually do try and surprise you…” You voice trailed off as you tried to step softly around the girl. You could just tell today was going to be one of her moodier days.

“Am I not worth the effort this year?” She grumbled.

“What? No, that’s not it at all! It’s just that… Well frankly, I’m running out of ideas on stuff to do and was just wondering if maybe you had something in mind? I mean, it is your birthday after all.”

Elizabeth sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, “Why do you even ask when you know full well what I want to do?”

You were getting quite cross with Elizabeth’s snippy attitude, “Well forgive me for being so empty-headed. Please, feel free to illuminate me.”

“(Name), I want to get out of here,” She huffed as she rolled off the bed and began to pace around the bed angrily, “I’m turning thirteen, thirteen! And I have not been outside of this godforsaken tower ONCE,” You saw her hands ball into fists, “Darn it! I should be doing all sorts of things at this age! Normal people things, like mingling with people, going to school, having my first kiss! But I can’t because I am a damn freak of nature forever trapped in this hell of a tower!!!” Her body was quaking with rage by the end of her small rant.

“Elizabeth please, calm down,” You called out to her, your voice level and stern, “Look, I know you are angry and I know this situation is awful, but I made promise I vow to keep and that is I will get you out of this tower someday. You just have to be patient.”

She snorted, “Oh really? Be patient?! Has my waiting for the last thirteen blasted years not been showing enough patience for you?! Don’t even pretend like you know how it feels to be in my situation, (Name), living eternally in one damned spot while the years just keep on ticking by! This tower has been my whole life, every second of the past thirteen years! Everything I’ve ever done or seen has been trapped within these godforsaken walls! Sorry (Name), but I find it kind of hard to believe that a girl who gets to come and go whenever she pleases and has all of Columbia at her fingertips because she is Fink’s daughter would begin to have any idea what HELL waiting in this prison is! Save the big talk for another time, you probably don’t even care if I ever make it out of this tower or not.”

Now you were just getting downright mad, “Excuse me? OK, true. I’m not stuck in a big luxurious tower, with all the amenities I could ever need, nestled up safely away from all dangers that constantly surround me in the city. I’m holed up in Finkton, a glorified sweat shop and breeding ground for never ending terror and abuse both inside and outside of my house! I’m stuck down there in that hell hole, where I am under constant watch and scrutiny from everyone, getting beat on by a man whom everyone thinks is just the greatest, while even my own goddamn mother thinks how he treats me is perfectly fine, that it’s acceptable and understandable! And ‘Columbia at my fingertips’? Please, I am scoffed at and judged as a poor little half breed everyplace I go! Sorry if a pampered lamb like you who is revered by all wouldn’t understand that,” The tension mounting between the two of you was palpable, “Also, how dare you refer to me as Fink’s daughter, when you exactly how I feel about him?! Listen, I do all I can to help you in any way I can, but if you are going to act like such a damned brat, maybe I’ll just stop all together!” By the end, you were screaming at her.

“That’s fine with me,” She spat back at you, “You think I need you in my life? Well guess what, that is the farthest from the truth you could POSSIBLY go! I was wrong to ever think a horrid girl like you could relate to me! Heck, for all I know you have been lying to me through the years and are really just a spy hired by Fink to keep watch over Columbia’s little freak!”

“Elizabeth, cant’ you hear yourself?! What are you even saying?! You sound absolutely mad!” You cried.

“WELL I AM MAD,” She exploded, “MAD AT THIS PLACE, MAD AT THIS LIFE, AND MAD AT YOU! I’m done talking now, so maybe you should just slither on back down below and dwell in the shadows of Columbia like the snake you are!”

You were fighting back angry tears and even angrier remarks, “So, I guess this means don’t ever want to see Paris, huh?”

“Not with the likes of you,” Her venomous words bit into your heart as she turned a cold shoulder to you, “Now get out of here.”

“FINE,” You screamed, making your way out the door and to the lift, “GOOD LUCK FINDING ANOTHER FRIEND WHO IS WILLING TO SACRIFICE ALL THAT SHE IS FOR YOU.”

She didn’t try to stop you (or even so much as look at you) as you hurriedly fled the scene.

~

And so for the next several weeks, your life was void of all things Elizabeth.

At first, you couldn’t even think of her without hearing her cruel words and envisioning your toxic last encounter. Anger burned painfully in your chest, and you fought hard to keep all thoughts of her out of your mind. 

But as the days continued to pass by, you started to come down off your anger. You thought of her in an increasingly better light, and slowly but surely began to feel bad for the things that you had said and the way you had acted. True, she was acting incredibly uncalled for, but she was still very young. Young, alone, confused, stumbling into womanhood with very little guidance and even less human contact… In those kinds of conditions you were surprised she didn’t act out more often. As you looked up at Monument Island each night you wondered what she was up to, and if she was thinking of you. Maybe she missed you just as much as you missed her? Or maybe she was still mad? You vowed you had to make that horrible day up to her. 

~ 

Elizabeth’s birthday was less than a week away at this point, and you were starting to panic. 

You had been hunting high and low, wracking your brain to the point of insanity, trying to find this girl the perfect gift. Not just one that she would love, but something truly from the heart that would show her just how much you meant to her, and just how sorry you were for what you said. Everything in stores was too cliché, and besides, she already had enough clothes, treats, and other purchasable things that it just wouldn’t be special. So that left you with making her something. But what exactly would you make her? Nothing that came to your mind seemed right…

It wasn’t until you were out for a small walk past Finkton’s textile mill that the perfect idea struck you.

You watched as a man carried out a huge bundle of fabric, and you were taken by how beautiful it was. It was a deep, rich blue, so dark that it almost appeared black. The way it shimmered in the sun made it seem like it was flecked with tiny diamonds, and when you went to the man carrying it and inquired how it felt, he let you stroke it, revealing that it was pleasantly soft and cool to the touch.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful,” You smiled at the man, “I’ve never seen fabric like this before in my life!”

“Itn’t pretty, though,” He grinned, “Shame we gon’ pitch it all.”

“Pitch it? You mean you are throwing it out? Why would you do that?”

“Well, the textile machine had a hiccup while it was creating it. Though it’s lovely, it ain’t up to Emporia’s dress maker’s standards, so in the trash it goes! Shame really, this fabric truly is one of a kind. It reminds me of the night sky in Paris…”

His comment got the gears turning in your head, “Sir… Since you are going to throw it out anyway… Would it be OK if I took it?”

He turned his attention to you, eyes wide, “You really want it? Hm… Well, we ain’t supposed to give anything away, even if it is destined for the trash heap… But for a pretty little thing like you, I think I could bend the rules a little,” He gave you a kind wink, “But I am interested in knowing what you plan to use it for.”

You smiled brightly at him, “Oh thank you so much, truly! You see, my dear friend has a fast approaching birthday, and seeing this fabric gave me the perfect idea for a gift …”

~

The day had come, and Elizabeth stood solemnly in her tower, eyes keeping sad watch on Columbia below.

“Today is my birthday,” She whispered, her voice cracking, “And the only present I want is for her to forgive the stupid things I said.”

Since you had stormed out that day, Elizabeth had continually beaten herself up over how he had treated you. Recently, her emotions seemed to fluctuate beyond her control and unfortunately she slipped up while you were around and let them get the better of her, exploding all her pent up rage and heartbreak on the one person who was not to blame. She was so, so wrong for saying all the things she had said, especially when she knew just how much they’d hurt you. She could feel your pain that day, see it carved in your face and shining in the tears in your eyes, and yet she had still kept going. Tears started to fall freely from her eyes as she replayed over and over that horrible day, thinking of all the ways she should have let it go… Thinking of all the way she needed to apologize. Would she even get the chance too? Did she take things too far? Were you done with her? She sunk to the floor.

“What an idiot I am,” She cursed herself angrily, face buried deep in her palms, “She is right. I am nothing but a brat!!! A whiny, no-good, jerk of a brat who can’t appreciate the good things in her life! I deserve nothing, let alone her friendship!”

“I beg to differ.”

Elizabeth jolted at the sound of your voice, and whipped around to see you standing right beside her, a large gift bag at your side.

“(Name)… You came…” Tears fell even harder from her eyes, and she was having a hard time catching her breath, “I’m so sorry I treated you so badly! I said most terrible things-“ 

You placed your index finger on her lips to hush her, and gave her a gentle smile, “Elizabeth, we both messed up horribly, but it’s in the past now and there is no need for you to apologize, and there is definitely no need for us to dwell on it any longer. Let’s put the sadness behind us, and focus on what day this is,” You held the bag out to her, “The day one of the greatest human beings this world has and will ever know came forth upon a world that is not yet ready for her brilliance!”

She took the bag slowly, happiness replacing her anguish, “Thank you, (Name), but you really didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to.” You winked.

And then she opened the gift you had been hard at work on non-stop, day and night, for the past week. You had turned the mere fabric swatch into a giant, full on nightscape of Paris, using additional fabrics and paints to paint the buildings, streets, people, etc. Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled and her mouth fell agape at the sight of it.

“(Name), it’s gorgeous,” She gushed, as you helped her hang it from the staircase banister, “What a magnificent scenery of Paris… where in the world did you find such a fantastic treasure?!”

“I made it,” You beamed, “A man in Finkton was getting rid of this lovely fabric, and he made a comment about how it reminded him of the night sky in Paris, so that got me thinking and I came up with this idea! After he gave me the fabric, I immediately set to work making the scene. I drew and cut out stencils, and then used those on some old clothes of mine that no longer fit. I cut all the buildings, including the Eiffel tower, and stitched them in place. The maids brought me some paint which I used to do the street lights, people, and other little odds and ends. That’s why those parts aren’t so good, you know I’m not too handy with a paint brush,” you laughed, “I figured if I can’t take you to Paris right now, I mine as well try and bring some Paris to you… Do you really like it?”

“Like it?! I LOVE IT,” She threw her arms around you roughly, nearly knocking you on the ground, “Thank you so much, (Name)! It is positively magnificent, and I adore it with all my heart! It is perfect!!!”

You returned her hug, closing your eyes, “I am so glad. Happy birthday Elizabeth, I love you.”

“I love you, too!”

The rest of the day was spent carefree and filled with bliss as you and Elizabeth sought joy in your homemade Paris, smiles not once leaving your faces.

~  
A/N: Alright, so this whole little chapter is based off of THIS: https://31.media.tumblr.com/64909249f2c215ec1175be735118376e/tumblr_n5mqpiYPbP1sruydwo1_500.jpg picture in the art book of Elizabeth hanging up a blanket with Paris (painted?) on it. It’s one of my all-time favorite pictures from the art book, so I decided to do a little story for it, though the blanket you made her is much more grandiose. ;D

I really wanted to add a chapter like this because I feel like poor Liz would have A LOT of pent up rage over her situation in her preteen/teenage years, and I wanted to try and write some of that.

I hope you all enjoyed it, and thank you so much for reading!!! Normal chapters will commence again, soon! :D Yay!

BOOKER COUNT DOWN: 5 CHAPTERS! LET’S DO THIS, GUYS!


	11. Good Riddance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment had come, and it was time to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all you beautiful readers out there! It’s Mothra, comin’ atcha with the next chapter!!! Heck yeah!  
> I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I hope you all have fun reading it. It’s a day in the readers life I’m sure you’ll all be happy to get to (not meeting Booker yet, but he’s drawing ever closer)! ;D
> 
> Also, an important notice I think you guys should all be aware of. Recently, my family has been going through a really rough patch, so I want you all to know that it may take me some extra time to update chapters. I do try my best and publish at least one a week, but with the stuff that’s been going down, it may take a little more time between updates. I’m sorry for the delays, but I’m still writing away whenever I can, so don’t fret and don’t worry! Thank you for your patience and understanding, you guys are all awesome!
> 
> Seriously, though. You are all the best readers ever and I always look forward to what you guys have to say. I appreciate each and every one of you, and will continually be grateful for your marvelousness for the entirety of this fic (and beyond). Thank you for lighting up my life. :D
> 
> And one more thing, the reason I took so long to respond to all you lovely people is that I was on a mini vacation out of state for a few days. I forgot to mention it in the last chapter, so I put it on my profile page. Did anyone see it? Sorry I didn’t post it in a better location!
> 
> Anyway, enough of me blabbering on! Read on, my Songbirds, read on! :D

Your family was never the same after the death of your sister.

The days following, you and your mother were ensnared in deep, seemingly endless sadness. You moved around like zombies, not really doing much of anything. Your memories of the days following the news became a blur. You barely ate nor slept. You didn’t study, read, or write. You didn’t visit Elizabeth (save for the night you heard the news), and in fact, you didn’t leave your room. Your mother had moved in with you, staying constantly at your side, though you could barely stand to look at each other. When you gazed into her eyes and she into yours, all that consumed you was a painful, all-encompassing guilt. You both could never forgive yourselves knowing that you abandoned your own flesh and blood for a prettier life in Columbia.

Fink would rarely check in on you. Occasionally he’d look in at the two of you (whilst giving a head shake and a sigh) but that was the farthest he went. It angered you. Why wasn’t he consoling his grieving wife? Why wasn’t he trying to bring peace to his ‘family’ in this time of turmoil? Why wasn’t he doing anything?! You wanted to scream this to your mother, but seeing the dead look in her eye halted the thoughts from ever escaping your mouth.

~ 

Who knew how many days past when you awoke to find your mother absent from your room.

Since the death, she had taken to sleeping in a large, plush chair in the corner of your room opposite your bed, but when you awoke this morning. She was nowhere to be found.   
Confused, but too down spirited to search for her, you shrugged it off, and fell back asleep.

However, several more days past and still you hadn’t so much as heard her voice in the halls. You began to worry, and then panic. What if she did something crazy? What if she just couldn’t live with herself after hearing the news of your sister? Could she really do something like that… would she? 

Cold chills ran down your spine as broke away from your room (something you hadn’t done in many a days) and investigated the mansion, asking every maid you saw if they had seen her. After getting nothing but negative responses, you decided that Fink was who you needed to be asking.

When you tore into his office, he barely took his eyes off what he was doing to acknowledge you.

“Oh, it’s just you,” He yawned, “I’ll let your lack of manners slide this time, seeing as you are grieving or whatever, but next time I expect you to properly knock for an audience… Anyway, what is it that you want? It’s not often you come to my quarters…,” He glanced up at you again, his face contorting into a look of disgust, “My God, you look absolutely horrid.”

“Where’s mother?” You questioned roughly, your voice cracking.

“Excuse me? Have you completely forgotten the proper way of addressing me?” He warned, his piercing eyes boring warningly into your own.

“Where is my mother sir.” You hissed through gritted teeth.

“Better, but not by much,” He frowned, looking back at his work, “She’s at the temple in the Welcome Center. Seems she’s Comstock’s new favorite follower… Ugh you smell as awful as you look! When was the last time you bathed?!”

“Temple?” You repeated confused. Your mother had never been particularly religious, let alone that interested in Comstock’s religious seminars.

“What are you, a voxophone?! YES, the temple,” he spat, “She spends her whole days there now. Says it brings her ‘enlightenment’ and ‘puts her hearts at ease’. Whatever floats her boat, I suppose… Look, if you wait up till around eleven at night, she’ll be home. In the meantime, clean yourself up for Christ’s sake! You’re really showing your ratty Irish side right now.”

Without another word, you stormed out of Fink’s office and barged your way to the front door, plopping down on the bottom step of the grand staircase. And there you waited. Hours and hours ticked by, and remained still, eyes set on the door. You refused to budge for anything until at eleven at night, the door creaked open slowly.

Your widened eyes befell your mother, and your face contorted into a look of shock. She was dawned head to toe in fine robes, the same ones you saw the worshippers wearing at the temple the day you arrived in Columbia. Her faces beauty and vibrancy returned, replacing its sunken and weary palor from grieving. Though she didn’t appear happy per se, she definitely had a glow about her, and the serene look on her features mad you a bit mad. Why did she look so pleased when your sister had died a month prior? You felt betrayed.

“Mother?” You croaked as pain shot through your legs as you stood. They had cramped all day while you sat.

“Darling,” Your mother looked up at you, a small worried smile gracing her lips, “How are you faring my sweet angel?”

“Where did you go,” You commanded lightly, “I looked all over for you!”

“Darling I’m so sorry,” She sighed, “It’s just… I couldn’t stand it anymore. I was driven to the edge, I had to do something,” Seeing the confused look in your eyes made her continue on in more detail, “Deep into the night a few days past, long after you had fallen asleep, I stayed up. Try as I might, I could not go to bed. Visions of your sister kept playing through my mind incessantly. A constant loop of her whole life, from when she was born, to the last time we saw her… It was maddening. As I reached a point where I just couldn’t take it anymore, where I knew I had to end this nightmare somehow… A thought struck me. Out of the blue, I thought, why don’t I go to the temple?”

“So you left? Right then and there, you left for the temple?” You asked

She nodded, “I did. I didn’t even change from my nightgown, nor did I tell Jeremiah. I just left. When I reached the temple, I was sure it’d be closed, but a loud voice in my head kept pushing me forward anyway. And I am so grateful it did, because when I had arrived, the temple was in fact open, and the only other soul inside was Father Comstock himself.”

Your mother stared off in the distance wistfully for a few moments before continuing, “I apologized for coming so late, but he took me in with open arms. I spilled my heart to him, and the whole time he sat patiently, not just listening, but hanging on my every word. In turn, he shared with me stories of a similar grief, from when Lady Comstock was viciously murdered. Our heartache was so similar that it was as it we were one soul. I asked him how he dealt with it, and he said his wife would not wish grief and sadness upon him, so he threw himself even further into his faith,” she took a small pause before continuing quietly, “As for Katherine’s death… he said he foresaw it all. When I asked him why he never told me, he relayed that it would do no good. What was to happen would happen, and my interference would have caused nothing but more sorrow… And then he took my hands,” when she spoke those words, she softly grabbed hold of your hands, “and he told me that grief is necessary to grow and learn, and that all things happen for reason. Katherine’s death was necessary for some greater, unforeseen, good. In that we should rejoice and be at peace, not cry and moan! Katherine is now with the angels and what city is closer to the angels than Columbia? Oh (Name), he is right. All he says and does it right. Father Comstock is not only a prophet, but a true saint!”

The overzealous smile on her face smashed the last few remaining pieces of your heart to dust. Now, not only had Fink brainwashed your mother, but she was Comstock’s puppet as well. All you could do was watch dejectedly as your mother kissed your cold face and walked off into the darkness of the mansion. You watched until the darkness entirely consumed her, as if Columbia itself had swallowed her whole.

~

Things only got worse from there. Your mother spent longer and longer amounts of time at the temple, until it completely engulfed her life, becoming her main priority. She was there so often in fact, it almost seemed like she had moved out altogether. You had not only lost a sister, but now your mother as well. 

With your mother gone so often, Fink treated you worse than you thought possible. He’d lock you in your room for days at a time, only letting you out for restroom breaks, or visits with Elizabeth. He’d beat you for no other reason than to just beat you. It seemed like all the frustration he had about your mother’s new life he conveniently took out on you.

And so you waited for the months to tick by and slowly but surely they did. As they past, you collected all the money you could, and packed up every possession of importance you had. All of it was in preparation for this day, the day you finally turned 18.

You stood at the ready in front of Fink’s office. Donned in your favorite travel gear with a suitcase tightly gripped in one hand, you used the other one to rap briskly on the door before pushing your way inside.

Fink was at his desk again, working. This time he didn’t even bothering to look up at you at all.

“I’m leaving.” You curtly spat.

He sighed angrily, “Make sure never to enter my quarters without my permission again, and how dare you speak to me in that tone, you little wretch,” after those words, a small, evil small crept upon his face as he leered at you, “When shall I expect you back? I’ll miss you terrible, my darling daughter.”

“Never,” You responded coolly.

“Pardon?”

You inhaled sharply, “I am eighteen years old now. I am an adult, and I am capable of making my own decisions as well as living on my own. So I am leaving.”

Fink stared at you hard for several moments, before pushing off his chair, standing, and slowly gliding his way towards you. There was a threatening swagger to his gait as she stepped closer and closer your way, but you were determined not to falter. This man would hold no control over you anymore.

“Oh,” he cooed, “And where exactly do you plan on going, daughter of mine? Not the Shanty Towns, I trust?”

“No,” You were adamant about keeping your voice level and calm, “and I have no obligation or reason to tell you where I am going.”

“Well, that’s where you will end up you fucking ungrateful little BITCH,” Fink snapped, his face turning tomato red with anger. He had come so close to you at this point, you could feel his spittle hit your face and the heat of his anger radiate over you. Still, you remained still and tall.

“I beg to differ, Jeremiah Fink. My life was just fine before you, and my life will be even better after you.”

You focused on a throbbing vein in his forehead, as he continued to go off on you, “Oh really? How the FUCK do you plan on making it out there, huh? What money do you have? What notoriety? All you are, and all you will EVER BE, is some piece of shit girl who’s only worth is my last name trailing the ass of your first! DO YOU HEAR ME? Without me you amount to nothing. I saved your mother’s sorry ass life because I love her, but the only reason I brought you here is because it was a package deal. And though I despise that ANIMAL Irish man I see staring back at me from your eyes every time I look at you, I brought you into my home. I clothed you, fed you, and what thanks do I get? NONE. Don’t you realize all I did for you, you little bitch?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mister Fink, you are so right! Where have my manners been all this time,” Your face clouded over, and you stared deep into his eyes letting your entire hate that had been building for years cascade freely out of you, “Thank you for ripping me from my home. Thank you for taking my father, my grandparents, my sister and my friends away from me. Thank you for telling my family nothing but sugar coated lies with that silver tongue of yours for as long as I can remember. Thank you for the countless beatings, especially the ones that were so rough they made me black out or left permanent scars. I love that every time I look at them I can think of you,” You saw Fink waver in the slightest, and that just spurred your farther, more vehemently “Thank you for thrusting me into a completely new world with no knowledge of it whatsoever, and doing nothing but laugh as you watch me continually suffer and fail in it. Thank you for brainwashing my mother to the point of no return. Thank you for beating a small child to death right in front of my eyes while I myself was a small child, and last but not least, thank you for bringing me to this cesspool of humanity called ‘Columbia’ and ‘raising’ me to be the person I am at this moment, because without all the hell you put me through, I wouldn’t be strong enough to leave this hellhole, you goddamned monster.”

Your body was shaking in the afterglow of all you had just spat out. Did those words really come from your mouth? They had, and you were still standing tall, not a tear to be seen. You smiled inwardly; you truly did have the strength to do this. You knew if your sister and Elizabeth could see you right now, they’d be positively beaming with pride.

Fink’s malicious laugh tore you back to reality, “Well, those were some big words for such a little brat,” he spat, “Fine, leave! See what happens! I bet it’ll be no time at all before I see you whoring yourself on the streets.”

“Well, in the incredibly improbable chance that that happens, it will be none of your concern either way, now will it,” You turned on your heel, “Goodbye, Fink. If I never see you again it will be too soon.”

“And just like that, you would abandon your mother,” You heard his sly voice creep into your ear, “You’d really abandon her so soon after the loss of your sister? Tsk, unbelievable! And I’M the heartless one?”

You froze, taking a moment to think of what to say next, “Mother… Mother already chose,” the words pained your heart to say, “The day we got on that boat she made her choice, and her choice is you, Fink. You, and all the pretty little lies that come along with you. My choice will never be the same.”

You began to stride towards the door, but still Fink was trying to stop you.

“I’ll make it so you never see Elizabeth again,” He hissed, “No letters, no anything! She will be gone from your life completely you witch!”

It was your turn to laugh, “Please, stop making me laugh! Did you forget? My mother is Comstock’s star worshipper now; do you really think she’d be OK with taking my only friend away from me? Of course not, and if you so much as tried, Comstock wouldn’t ever hear the end of it! And besides, Elizabeth wouldn’t stand for it either! God only knows what kind of tears she’d open to get to me!”

You had reached the door, and the cold cast iron handle seemed light in your hand. As you pulled them open, you glanced back at his enraged, sour looking face one last time. 

“Goodbye Fink,” You smiled brightly, “I’ll think fond thoughts of you rotting in the deepest reaches of hell.”

And you were out. On a total high, you floated down the stairs, waving and hugging all the maids goodbye (while promising them all better paying jobs when you became rich and important) before you stepped out of the mansion, a free woman at last.

You inhaled the fresh air deeply, unadulterated bliss encompassing you entirely.

“Here I go! First steps to a new life!”

Your optimism was boundless.

~

A/N: SUCK ON EGGS, JEREMIAH FINK.

I hope you all enjoyed. :D

BOOKER COUNT DOWN: FOUR CHAPTERS


	12. Working Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of Finkton, and ready for a new life, you can't wait to start out fresh and on your own.  
> ... But, it looks like you may need a little help along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, Mothra here, presenting to you Chapter eleven! Yay!
> 
> Now that you are out of Finkton, what are you going to do with yourself?! Hm…
> 
> Before you get started, I wanted to give a sincere, heartfelt thank you to all of you guys. Things have been pretty tough lately, but writing, and knowing I have such marvelous people who enjoy my writing, make things a helluva lot better.   
> Thank you so much for your support and understanding, you guys are simply the greatest.
> 
> Now, with all that said, read on, and enjoy!!!

Columbia seemed a little brighter now that you were a free woman.

As you made your way out of Finkton and into the rest of the city, you passed by countless citizens, people you were certain knew you as Fink’s daughter. You smiled brightly at all of them, even giving a few greetings and engaging in small talk. Most of them responded in scoffs, heavy frowns, or just outright dismissed you, but not even that canned your high. And the few whom smiled and greeted you back helped fuel you forward.

You traveled all around the city, taking in the sights and sensations. You joined in a huge crowd that had gathered as they stood watching in awe as a group of men worked hard to sell the newest marvel out on the market, Vigor’s. You were summoned from the crowd to be a volunteer, to which you nervously yet excitedly agreed to do. 

“Now, you may want to hold down your skirt for us, miss, we wouldn’t want it to float up around your head! This isn’t that kinda show, ya know?” The announcer called with a laugh after you had made your way up the steps, stopping next to a man who had just taken a large swig from bottle with a topper that was shaped like a man riding a horse.

“Hold down my skirt? Why would I need to do that?” You questioned, nervous about what was in store.

Your response came as an unbelievably powerful gust of wind, followed by the strangest sensation you had ever experienced. You seemed to be surrounded by translucent orange swirling cloud, which caused your skin to tingle. As you looked down upon it, it came to your attention that your whole body was floating.

At first you panicked as you started to twist around awkwardly in the air, afraid of how high you would actually go. But once you realized you were staying a consistent height and that you weren’t moving around too much or experiencing any pain, you began to enjoy yourself greatly.

“How are ya feelin’, miss?” The announcer called down to you, “You enjoying the Bucking Bronco?”

“It’s remarkable,” You laughed, “I feel as light as a feather! Like I could just take off and fly!”

After you spoke, the vigor began to wear down, and as it did you slowly landed back on your feet, causing the crowd to erupt in awe and applause.

“There you have it folks, isn’t it just incredible,” The announcer yelled, “and it can be yours today! Fink Manufacturing’s very own Bucking Bronco! Who wants some? How about you little lady, you seem rather enamored with it!”

You shook your head lightly at the announcer, “Thank you for the opportunity, but not today.” You weren’t too keen on drinking a mysterious elixir that gave you unnatural powers for fear of how it may affect your body, especially in the long run. And you really became uninterested when you heard it was a Fink product. So you thanked the men for the demo, and politely carried on.

From the vigor vendors, you caught a ride from a motorized chariot to other parts of the town. You pranced around, free as a bird, stopping to look through all the telescopes and window shop at all the boutiques. You chatted with a street vendor selling cotton candy for a bit, whom ended up giving you some of his wares for free. As you sat down in a small, shaded patch of grass across from a group of children playing, you couldn’t help but laugh with joy.

“If only Columbia could always be this pleasant,” You sighed to yourself as you happily popped bits of the sugary cloud into your mouth.

~

As day turned to evening, and evening to night, the severity of leaving your life in Finkton hit you full force. 

As the sky became dark, you made your way to the only Inn in Columbia, only to find that their rates were ridiculous, and after spending one night there, nearly all your money would be gone. With no other choice, you paid up.

Sleep that night came hard to you, as worry consumed your every thought, ‘I can’t believe this place is so expensive… It’s damn near highway robbery! I guess that’s what I get being so close to Emporia… I bet the people of color who work here don’t even get to see a dime of it,’ You sighed and rolled over on your side so that you could stare out the window, ‘Regardless, I paid, and now nearly all my money is gone. I should have some left for food, but staying here another night is completely out of the question. If only I had a friend with whom I could stay. Unfortunately, my only friend is locked away in a tower, and I’m not even sure when I will be able to see her again… I need to find a job, and quickly. I have no other options.’

~

The next morning, you donned the nicest outfit you had on your person, purchased the cheapest breakfast the inn had to offer, and set out into Columbia to find a job.

You acquired a newspaper, opening straight to the jobs section. You traveled about to all of them, optimistic and hopefully. Unfortunately, that optimism wasn’t meant to last.

“Sorry, the position has already been filled.”

“You seem a little young… we were looking for someone with much more experience.”

“Sorry girlie, we are only looking for males to apply. This job would be too rough on your fragile form, ya know? Though I can’t say I wouldn’t mind having you around to brighten up the view, if ya know what I mean…”

“You’ve never worked a day in your life! How dare you come to my establishment looking for work?!”

“You are Fink’s daughter, aren’t you? Why don’t you just work for him?”

“I don’t know why Fink’s girl even needs a job. Sweetie, just go home and be with your family.”

And those were only a small portion of the remarks you received, not including the people whom just outright slammed the door in your face. Tired, frustrated, hungry, and down trodden, you collapsed on a nearby bench in Soldiers Field.

“Now what do I do,” You groaned to yourself, “I went to every ad in the paper, and every single one shut me down! Now it’s getting dark, I only have a few silver eagles left, and I am homeless AND jobless. I really didn’t think this out well at all. I let my hatred for Fink and desire to escape cloud my judgment…What am I going to do?!”

The sun had been set for at least an hour at this point, and with no other options you could think of, you started scouring nearby locations where you may be able to hide away for the night, without the police catching and arresting you. You had come upon a nice little dark cubby nestled between two closed buildings that you thought might work perfectly, when you heard a commotion take place behind you.

“Hey boy,” you heard a gruff voice holler out, and turned to see two police officers cornering a colored man, as one of the officers continued to talk, “What are you doing out here so late at night, huh? You know the curfew for your kind was hours ago.”

“I-I k-know sir, I’m s-sorry sir,” You heard the man stutter in fear, his eyes glued to the ground while his hands nervously pulled at the hat in his hands, “It’s just that I lost track of time, ya see, and I-“

“Cut the bullshit, ya damn monkey,” The other officer spoke, pulling out his nightstick, “we know you are coming from some sort of Vox meetup, you piece of shit!”

“Sir, please,” The man pleaded, his voice quivering, “That ain’t it at all! I was just let off from work late, and-“

“I told you to shut your fucking mouth,” the officer growled, “This is your unlucky day, boy. It’s our job to eliminate Vox scum, you included!” The officers lifted their staffs, ready to strike.

“There you are,” You called out, running over to the cornered man, “My heavens, where have you been? I have been waiting here in Battleship Bay for the past hour, waiting for you to come and collect me, and now look at the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into,” you winked at the man before turning to the officers with the sweetest smile you could muster, “I’m terribly sorry, gentlemen. It seems my butler here caused you a heap of unwanted stress.”

The men lowered their staffs, and the first officer spoke, “So, this boy works for you miss…?”

You swallowed hard, “Fink. I’m Jeremiah Fink’s daughter. And yes, he is one of our butlers. I went out for the day to do some shopping,” You said, holding up your baggage to pass off as proof, “and I ended up going a little overboard, so father said he’d send one of the butlers my way to help me get home. He must have gotten lost though, because I had to wait a terribly long time!”

The officer’s demeanors completely changed, “Oh, Miss Fink! Of course, I’m terribly sorry we didn’t recognize you sooner! We apologize for delaying your night any further, but you must realize how suspicious your butler seemed slinking around alone so late at night… Seems he needs to be better trained, boy can’t be leaving a pretty little thing like you alone late at night!”

The officers both laughed heartily, and it sickened you to laugh along with them.

“Would you like us to assist you back to Finkton, miss? That bag does look awfully heavy.” The second officer suggested.

You smiled sweetly, “No, I’ll be fine now that I found him! Thank you so kindly officers, we won’t be the cause of any more trouble for you tonight, I promise!”

“Oh please, it was no trouble at all. We were just doing our job,” The first officer smiled, taking your hand gently and giving it a small kiss, “Make sure to tell Mister Fink we said hello.”

“I certainly will! Goodnight gentlemen!” You waved, handing your bag to the dark skinned male, tugging on his arm slightly to get him to follow you.

After you made to a safe location far away from any officers, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Whew, that sure was a close one, huh?” You smiled at the man, who still seemed extremely fidgety and nervous.

“Yes it was ma’am,” He spoke softly, afraid to look you in the eyes, “I really appreciate it, Miss Fink.”

Your frowned, “Please don’t call me that,” he finally locked eyes with you, confusion lying behind them, “… It’s true, I am his daughter, but not by blood and definitely not by choice. My mother married him after she split my real father… Honestly, I want nothing to do with him or his name period. Well, unless I can use his status to get me out of tough spots, like the one back there,” You smiled mischievously at the man, “Please, just call me (Name)… What shall I call you?” You held out your hand to him.

“My name’s Ezekiel,” he smiled, shaking your hand briskly, “It sure is a pleasure to meet you, miss (Name), and it’s also good to know you won’t be dragging me to Finkton anytime soon.”

You laughed, and he continued, “Why did you help me out back there?”

“Why wouldn’t I,” You responded seriously, “The only one doing anything wrong was those thug officers. I’d be damned if I stood by doing nothing but watch as they beat an innocent man,” You trailed off as your mind unwantedly traveled to thoughts of the little girl on the boardwalk. You never wanted that to happen to anyone again.

“Well miss, this man could never thank you enough for that,” he beamed, pulling you from your dark thoughts, “You saved me a world of hurt. How Can I ever thank you?”

“It’s enough of a thank you to see you come away unharmed,” you smiled warmly, “Now, where are we headed? I’ll escort you to your destination so no more officers can ambush and accuse you of things.”

“Are you sure you ain’t secretly my guardian angel,” the man joked, returning your warm smile, “Miss (Name), I’m headed to a safe house a bit south of the Welcome Center. It’s run by a real nice white couple who are striving for equality for all folks in Columbia, regardless of color, sex, or creed. They offer up a warm bed an’ fresh food to anybody caught in a tight spot with no place to go… They gladly take in all kinds without question… Well, as long as you willing to help out around the house, that is.”

“Say no more,” You beamed, relief washing over your being. This sounded exactly like the kind of place you needed to stay until you got your bearings, “lead the way, Mister Ezekiel!”

~

Lucky for you, Ezekiel was no liar. As soon as you reached the safe house, the couple (named Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham) that owned it took you both in with open arms. For the next two months, you stayed with them, helping them out as much as you could. Every morning, you’d wake early to help Mrs. Cunningham tend to the weak and wounded tenants, as well as help her prepare breakfast. Your day was filled with cleaning and other various chores, as well as further job hunting, and your nights were filled with helping out Mister Cunningham design and print equality propaganda posters. The Cunningham’s didn’t have enough money to their name to pay you much, but you assured them a place to stay and food was all you really required. 

Helping out with chores was not your only task however. You more often than not were up deep into the night assisting the Cunningham’s as they took in numerous colored citizens fleeing for their lives, seeking a bit of release from their unforgiving lives in Columbia. You witnessed first-hand how deep the brutality of Columbia’s upper crust truly was as you bandaged countless festering wounds and treated the calloused skin of scarred men, women, and children. Each person who came to your care all had horror stories to share ranging from the nearly unbelievable, to the gut wrenching. Some of the stories even made you physically ill. Simply looking at them as they spoke of the horrors they lived with made your soul burn with rage, and your body quiver with an intense yearning for justice. After all these experiences, now stronger than ever before, you wanted to help these downtrodden and abused souls.

As you spent your days totally engrossed in work, your thoughts often drifted to Elizabeth. Not long after you had left Finkton, you had received a telegram from Comstock himself summoning you to the temple, where both he and your mother were awaiting you. Basically, they delivered a long lecture to you about how disappointed they were in the actions you took and your treatment of Fink, and your mother pleaded that you come home and apologize. It took all your courage to stand tall and turn them down, especially with Comstock’s hawk like smolder constantly upon you, but you managed to not back down. As punishment for ‘being so stubborn and foolish’, Comstock cut back your visits to Elizabeth drastically. Now, you would only be seeing her every three months, for an hour each visit, no exceptions. And if he ever caught you sneaking to see her, he told you explicitly he'd make it so the two of you never saw each other again. It was hard news to take, and you even began to consider apologizing to Fink. However, on your most recent visit to her, Elizabeth assured you that you did the right thing. She was proud of you, and though you were both discouraged by the newly implemented rules, you knew you’d both fight your way through them, just like you always did.

Besides that, things were going surprisingly smoothly in your new, free life. That is, they were until today, when a rather large family came to the safe house looking for refuge.

“I’m terribly sorry,” You heard Mrs. Cunningham’s sad voice tell the weary group, “We just simply don’t have any room left…”

“Please,” the mother in the group begged, her demeanor ragged and exhausted, “We have nowhere else to go! If we don’t stay here, they will throw us back in the Shanty Towns for sure! My daughter is sick! She’ll die down there!”

“I’m so sorry, I know you need help. But we are over filled as it is… And adding on a family of your size… We just can’t do it.” It was hard for you to see the deep pain in someone as kind as Mrs. Cunningham’s eyes as she spoke those words. Between that, and seeing the limp, sickly child dangling lifeless from her mother’s arms, it didn’t take long for you to come to a decision.

“They can have my room.” You spoke up, walking into view.

Mrs. Cunningham turned to you surprised, “(Name)? What do you mean, you don’t have to-“

“It’s OK,” You cut her off with a shake of your head, stepping towards the mother of group, “Please, take my room. Lord knows I’ve leeched off Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham’s kindness long enough,” You smiled softly at the woman, before gently placing your hand on the small girl’s feverish skin, “She is burning up… Quickly, come inside. We’ll see what we can do.”

After the family piled their way inside, you and the Cunningham’s set to work fixing not only the group up, but also getting your room ready for their arrival. After all was said and done, and the family was settled, it had gotten to be rather late in the night.

“(Name),” Mrs. Cunningham’s voice called softly, as she sat down next to you on the couch where you were resting, “That was incredibly kind of you to give up your room for that family. “

You glanced over at her tiredly, giving her a small smile, “Well, it was the least I can do. Besides, if that little girl hadn’t gotten some decent care soon, she would have surely been a goner. I couldn’t live with myself if they had to go back out on the street, while I lounged comfortably in here, you know?”

She nodded, and then stared down at her hands, “That’s very true… but (name), where will you go now?”

The question caused a painful knot to form in your stomach, “I… I don’t really know…”

She sighed deeply and placed a soft hand on your shoulder, “You know we’d let you stay here if we could, we just don’t have the means. Oh, (Name), I’m sorry…”

You placed your hand softly over hers, “I know you would, no need to apologize. I’ll be fine, I promise. I am surprisingly resilient,” You gave her a wink, to which she smiled, “I’ll begin job hunting early tomorrow, and from there, I’ll find a place to stay. If worse comes to worse, I believe I can scrounge up enough for a night’s stay at the Inn… But regardless, I’ll be OK.”

She let you spend the night there on her couch, and as she walked away, you let your brave demeanor fall. 

‘Tomorrow is it,’ you thought to yourself, a shiver going down your spine, ‘It’s my final chance to prove myself…or Fink may have been right… If anything, I can’t let him win.’

~

Before the sun even rose, you began your quest. You hopped from door to door, stopping at each and every facility you saw, asking for a job. You knew you looked as desperate as you felt, but you kept pushing forward. You had no other choice.

Alas, the day was coming to an end and your luck seemed to be even worse this time around. Defeated, you decided to make one last stop to the flower store. Mrs. Cunningham’s sister was one of the shops owners, and in the months you stayed with the Cunningham’s, you had visited her store frequently and became quite good friends with both ladies whom ran the store. Unfortunately, after telling them the situation, they could not hire you either.

“I’m sorry (Name), but we just don’t have the means to hire another person, even though you are our friend” Clarissa, Mrs. Cunningham’s sister said to you as she began to start closing up shop, “Are you positive no one will hire you? I thought you said you got a few interviews in…”

“None of which lasted longer than ten minutes,” you sighed sadly, wondering how many times you had heard people tell you ‘I’m sorry’ today, “I just don’t know what I’m going to do now. I have no money left and no place to go… I’m stuck… And truthfully, I’m very, very scared.”

“Well don’t be too scared,” Edith, the (you suspected more than just) friend of Clarissa who is co-owner of the shop, spoke while stepping into view, “We may not be able to offer you a job, but we sure won’t leave you homeless. Feel free to stay with little Chickadee and I until you can gather your bearings.” She finished by playfully bumping Clarissa with her hip, causing her to blush.

“Do you really mean it,” You perked up, “You’ll really let me stay with you for a bit?”

Edith gave you a lopsided grin, “Well, of course! What kind of people would we be otherwise? The only thing I ask is that you keep on pushing to get hired because, well, we can’t support you forever.”

“Oh thank you,” you happily cried, flinging your arms happily around both girl bodies, “You are both so wonderful! I promise I will be no burden at all, and I’ll even make sure to have a job by the end of the week, no matter what!”

How you prayed those words wouldn’t come back to bite you.

~

After the girls shut up shop for the day they lead you back to where they lived; a very nice little apartment not far from where the flower shop was. After settling you in a bit, and giving you a small tour, they decided to head to bed early so as to be ready for the coming work day. Seeing as you weren’t very tired yet, you decided to take a small stroll around the neighborhood to clear your thoughts.

You had been walking around for quite a while when you ended up in Soldiers Field. The sun had set, and you decided it was getting about time to head back. However, your legs were quite tired after the trek you took. You glanced around, your eyes searching for a good spot to relax for a bit, when your sights fell upon some empty chairs sitting under a canopy at the Fellow Traveler restaurant.

You walked up to an open seat, falling into it happily. A content sigh escaped your lips as you allowed your head to lean back and your eyes to close. The assurance of having a bed to sleep in at night brought your heart ease, even if it was just temporary. You smiled happily for your small victory, grateful that Columbia had some truly good hearted people in it. You were so consumed in your thoughts that you didn’t hear someone come up behind you.

Your heart nearly stopped when you felt someone forcefully pull the back of your chair down. You gasped loudly, clutching to the arms of the chair for dear life. As you were leaned back, your eyes bolted open, and that’s where you found that you had come face to face with an older man.

“What do you think you are doing loitering around here,” he gruffly spoke to you, his voice sounding vaguely like he was hiding an accent, “don’t you know we’re closed?”

“I-I’m terribly sorry,” You stuttered, as you stared into his cold, dark eyes, “I just thought I’d catch a quick rest here before heading home. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“Humph,” He grumbled, before forcefully pushing the chair back down on all fours, making you lurch forward painfully, “Rest someplace else, girlie. I gotta get the joint cleaned up, and your ass sitting around ain’t helping.”

“Well forgive me,” You scoffed, angrily pushing yourself up, “I’ll be sure to get out of you way. I wouldn’t want to cause such a fine gentleman such as you anymore trouble.” 

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Don’t get lost on your way home, little girl,” The man chided, “Or shall I call your daddy to come carry your weary body home?”

You could feel your face starting to grow hot with anger, “I’m fine on my own, thank you.” You spat, curtly. Just who was this man, and why did he feel the need to treat you so evilly?

Just as you turned to go, however, his voice halted you, “Hey wait a minute,” you turned back to face him, noting a strange expression taking over his face, “I’ve seen you before… Aren’t you Fink’s girl?”

“I am nobody’s girl but my own, thank you, especially not that evil man’s,” You spat, “Now I’d appreciate it if you didn’t waste any more of my time-“

“But you are his daughter, correct?” The man cut you off, his rudeness seemingly having no bounds.

You gritted you teeth, “None of that devil’s dirty blood flows through my body. My mother made the unfortunate choice of remarrying him, true, but never in a million years will that man EVER be my father. Just the thought of him makes me sick and I don’t want to be associated with him again, THANK YOU.” You finished strongly, noting a twisted smile had formed on the man’s face. You frowned in disgust at him, and once again turned away, taking rough steps to distance yourself from him.

“… I’ve seen you someplace else too,” he called to you, but you kept walking, “A few months ago, right across from my restaurant. You helped a black man, correct?”

This got you to stop in your tracks. Had he been watching that night?

“Well, was that you?” He called again after he received no response.

“… It was,” you said, turning once again to face him, “… Were you watching me?”

“I saw the whole thing,” He still had the same strange grin on his face, “Why’d you help that man?

You frowned, confused. Was he going to hurt you for helping a person of color? You refused to let him scare you “I helped him because he was being treated wrongfully. He was just a man, tired from a hard days work, trying to make it home when those thug police man started interrogating him. He was getting punished for no reason. I couldn’t just stand by and watch that take place, so I did what any other person should have done.”

He nodded, and stared into your eyes. For several seconds, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air, and you weren’t quite sure how to proceed. You had decided that it would be best to just leave, when his voice called to you once again, this time, with an unexpected question.

“You wouldn’t happen to need a job, would you?”

“Um, well… yes, I am currently looking,” You responded, being taken completely off guard, “Why do you ask?”

“Can you cook?” He asked, nonchalantly, totally disregarding your inquiry.

“Well, yes, but not very well… In all honest truth I’ve had people cook for me pretty much my whole life, so I only really know the basics.”

“How are you with people? You look friendly, and you are very lovely…” He trailed off, giving you a quick once over, which made you nervously blush.

“I… I’m fairly good with people, I suppose-hey, why exactly are you asking me this?” This man was nothing but a great mystery to you. ‘Not even ten minutes ago he was treating me like absolute garbage, and now he’s calling me lovely and asking me all sorts of questions? What is he getting at…?’

“What’s your name?” He asked, once again completely disregarding your question.

“It’s (Name).”  
“(Name)… That’s a nice name, you got there. You can call me Thomas, or Bub, if you’d like… Alright, well, I’ll see you bright an early tomorrow. Be here at six sharp, don’t be late.” He said over his shoulder to you as he began to head back into the restaurant.

You shook your head, and let out a confused chuckled, “What do you mean? Why in the world would I be here at six in the morning?!”

He stopped in the doorway, and glanced down on you, a huge smile on his lips, “Because you just got hired.”

~

A/N: Girl, you just got yourself a job! It was a rocky road to get here, but dang it, you did! Aw yeah, go you! I’m so proud! *High Fives*

Oh Bucking Bronco… But seriously, how fun would it be to just float around? 

Anyway, ‘the Cunningham’s’ are supposed to be that couple in the game that Booker interacts with. You know, when he runs through their house (or is it their business? Both?) to escape the police and they keep quiet so the police don’t barge in and find him? Yeah, those guys. They seemed like rather decent people, so, that’s that.

And I made the flower girls lesbians. Just cause. But yay for making friends!

As always, thank you so much for the reading and the support! You guys are the greatest, and I can’t tell you that enough! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Stay tuned!

BOOKER COUNT DOWN: THREE CHAPTERS! I CAN SMELL THE BOOZE AND REGRET ALREADY, YEAH!


	13. The Fellow Traveler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you were finally getting your life on track, this guy persisted in making it much more difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all you wonderful readers out there! Here we are again with chapter 13! Woo!
> 
> *Heavy breathing* Now… I am actually kind of worried about this one. It’s full of a lot of OC’s, and one OC in particular that will play a rather important rule in your life… I feel kinda like I jumped on a bandwagon when I added him into the story (if that makes any sense at all), but I tried to work out a lot of ways to progress the story how I wanted in my head, and he was the best one. I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! I had quite a good time writing it! 
> 
> As always, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS AND LOVE YOU GUYS ARE THE GREATEST. If I could make you all a mountain of your favorite cookies and eat them with you all day while we play Infinite all day, I would in a heartbeat! :D
> 
> Another note, I have started to put updates on my profile page about how my fanfics are coming along. SO, if I end up taking a while to post something, or you are just interested in a status report, I plan on keeping you informed there! :)
> 
> ANYWAY, READ ON MY LITTLE BEAUTIES! And enjoy!!!

It was five fifty in the morning, and alone you stood in front of the Fellow Traveler’s doors. You had arrived their twenty minutes prior after an unsuccessful night’s sleep. Far too nervous and excited to rest properly, you decided to get up and get ready as early as you could (the last thing you wanted was to be late and mess up this whole opportunity). Clarissa and Edith had called you crazy, and said it made you seem too ‘desperate’, but their words didn’t halt you from early morning preparations. Besides, getting up and at ‘um so early in the morning gave you less time to over think and worry about what you were getting yourself into, something you had already done quite enough of.

The sun had yet to rise, leaving you huddled under the huge blue sign in darkness, save for a small street light to your left that cast an inviting glow your way. Your body quaked lightly with shivers as the cold morning air engulfed your person. You tapped your foot on the ground impatiently and nervously chewed at your nails as your eyes stayed focused on the clock displayed through the restaurant’s glass door. It was now five fifty eight. You stifled a yawn, hoping that your new ‘boss’ would arrive soon…

As if responding to your thoughts, you heard a cheerful voice call out in front of you, “And there she is, here before even the sun has a chance to shine,” as the voice approached closer and into the light, you could see that it had indeed come from the man you encountered yesterday, “Glad you made it, miss (Name)! I was worried you wouldn’t come back!”

You gave him a half smirk, “Well, I was considering it… but decided that I may as well give this place a chance. I mean, you were so warm and inviting to me yesterday.” You responded with a mock coyness.

Thomas erupted in laughter, “Well, I am certainly glad you did! We need more feisty people like you around here!”

You heard someone snort beside him, which startled you. Stepping through the darkness you noticed that Thomas was not alone, but accompanied by three other people. Once they were in the light, you could see that they were two males and one female, all between the ages of what looked to be twenty and thirty five.

“Please, if we add any more feistiness to this joint the place may explode,” the female joked, crossing her arms across her chest and smirking, “why couldn’t you have hired a nice docile girl this time around, Thomas? All of the free spirited ones end up getting fired or arrested anyway; it’d be saving you a step!” She finished by shooting you a wink.

“Now where is the fun in that,” Thomas laughed, nudging the girl, “too many people in Columbia are softer than white bread in water. Why’d I want some meek mush when I can have colorful lot such as you?”

“Valid point,” she smiled, stepping closer to you and extending her hand, “(Name), was it? I’m Laura, the head waitress here at Fellow Traveler. I’ll be training you. The guys behind me are Marcus and Wiley,” She pointed at each respectively as they gave you small waves which you reciprocated, “They are two of the head chef’s here. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You smiled warmly at her, grasping her hand firmly in your own, “The pleasure is all mine! Thank you so much for training me today, I really appreciate it!”

“You say that now, but when I put you through the wringer you won’t be feeling so pleasurable!” The older female laughed, clapping her hand hard on your shoulder.

“Laura, stop scaring the girl” the eldest of the two chefs (Marcus) called as we walked up to you, the rest of them following suit, “Don’t worry, (Name). She talks big, but really she’s a total softy. A real ‘wet bread’ if we’re using Thomas’s odd terms.”

“Hey!” Both Thomas and Laura called out in unison, looking deeply hurt that Marcus would say such things about them.

“Stop acting like such children, you goofs,” Wiley sighed heavily, pushing his way to the front of the group so that he was facing you directly, “Laura is so soft that she cries when she eats anything spicier than corn bread and Thomas tries to come up with new lingo all the time that is always awful and never sticks,” You noticed Thomas and Laura appeared even more wounded, which caused Marcus to laugh wildly, “And Marcus is just a doofus,” Wiley added, shutting Marcus up immediately and adding him to the wounded expression galley, “And that’s all you need to know as an introduction to this crew. Now, can we get inside? I’d like to get ready for the morning rush, thank you.”

“Wow, good morning to you too, Wiley.” Laura scoffed.

“Can we add that Wiley is a huge ass as his introduction?” Marcus continued, still looking wounded.

“Call me what you what, I came here to work, as did she,” Wiley responded, pointing his thumb at you, “Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, um, of course,” You added in, confused as to if you should act lighthearted or serious, “I’m very eager to start!”

“Wiley’s right, enough name callin’ chit chat, it’s time to start getting the old girl ready for another busy day,” Thomas spoke up as he made his way to the door, and after a bit of key fumbling, unlocked it, “Go on in, everyone. Laura, make sure to grab a spare uniform for Miss (Name) and start showing her all the opening procedures.”

Laura nodded, “Alright, I’ll see you inside,” She called to you and made her way through the door, followed by Marcus and Wiley. As you neared the entrance and went to step inside, Thomas’ hand grasping your arm stopped you.

“Hey,” he spoke quietly, “about yesterday…. I wanted to apologize.”

You shook your head lightly at him, “It’s OK, there is no need to-“

“No, there is a need to,” he cut you off, his voice and gaze turning intensely serious, “I treated you like real shit the other day, and you didn’t deserve it at all. I’m truly sorry, dear, really I am. It’s just that, well… In this city, you always have to keep your eyes and ears open. You never know who’s a friend and who’s a foe, as I’m sure you know,” you looked at the man hard, slightly confused as to why he was telling you all this, “I just get a little cranky sometimes and the ass in me comes out as means of protection. Know that it was nothing personal, lass.”

“I understand and no offense was taken,” You nodded at him, “However bad you may have seemed the other day, you made up for it tenfold by giving me this opportunity… I just hope I don’t let you down.”

Noticing the concern buried beneath your words, Thomas gently placed a warm hand on your back and shot you a kind smile, “You’ll do great, (Name). I know it.”

His words resonated with you, and you entered into the restaurant with nothing but determination.

~

Between learning the ropes, greeting guests, following and watching Laura, figuring out how to carry the food trays, taking orders, and just generally learning the ins and outs of the restaurant, your shift flew by faster than you realized. Before you knew it, two in the afternoon had approached, and Laura told you your work day was through.

“Really,” you questioned, glancing up at the clock in surprise to see that she was indeed right, “Well, I’ll be. That was the fastest day I’ve had in a long time!”

Laura laughed, “Well revel in that feeling while you can. Give this job some time and soon that clock will feel like it’s not moving at all. How do you feel about your first day?”

“It was a lot of info to take in all at once, and I could feel myself lagging and getting frazzled more than I’d like to admit, and hopefully a lot less than I physically showed. But I did enjoy myself, and now with some practice I’ll be up to speed,” you looked up at the woman with an earnest smile, “Thank you again for training me, Laura. I’d be totally lost without your guidance.”

She laughed again, “No, thank you! It was a nice vacation having someone to dump all my work on today, I look forward to working with you more,” she playfully shoved you, causing your smile to grow, “but in all seriousness, you really did do a great job today. Your eagerness to work and adapt to this new place is admirable.”

You blushed slightly at her compliment, “Thank you.”

Laura sighed, “Well, anyway, see you same time tomorrow, (Name),” the girl waved, exiting the building, “be safe going home.”

You waved back at the girl, the smile still plastered on your face, “Same to you! I look forward to having you slave drive me tomorrow, as well!”

The hearty laugh that escaped her lips as she walked away filled your heart with joy. Finally, you had found a place in Columbia outside of Elizabeth’s tower that you felt you belonged.

~

The year was 1909, and you had been with the Fellow Traveler for two years at this point. You had established yourself as a respected and well liked member of the staff, and in turn, you had made many lasting friendships with the people you had worked with. 

You had also become well off enough on your own to afford your own place to live (a small apartment in the same building as Clarissa and Edith’s) and live comfortably off your earnings from your job.

Your life had calmed down considerably, and despite being a bit boring, it was comfortable and you had achieved a level of peace in your life you never though would be possible in this floating city. Yet even still, the horrors of Columbia persisted in your everyday life, and the ache in your heart from missing your father and your home never subsided. Also, you continued to desperately cling to the hope of escaping to a better life with Elizabeth, and saved much of the money you made at work in hopes of using it for that exact purpose. And even though the dream you and Elizabeth shared grew less and less bright with each passing day as new obstacles seemed to pop up all over the place, and childish dreaming moved aside for the hard truth of the whole situation, you were determined to never give up, and knew that when you did escape, you’d need some form of money to help get the two of you going.

At the moment, it was 6:30 in the morning, and you were opening alone with Thomas. The Fellow Traveler still had another thirty minutes before its doors opened to the public, and another twenty before more employees starting to show up. Not wanting to put everyone behind, you made sure to hustle when you came in, and now the dining area was more than ready for customers. You were double checking all the tables to make sure they were properly stocked with condiments and menu’s when you heard the bell on the door jingle, singling someone’s arrival.

You knew very well that you and Thomas were supposed to be the only one’s opening this morning, and the crew you worked with wasn’t known to be so early to their shifts, so your eyes darted up quickly to see who had entered. Your gaze befell a man around your age, possibly a little older. He was someone you had never seen before. He was tall, and dressed plainly, but was well kept, and even in the poor lighting you could see he was well built, and very attractive. His facial structure was strong, and as he turned his head this way and that you watched as his light blonde locks (so light in fact, his hair almost appeared white) shook with each turn of his head. His eyes eventually landed on yours, and you saw that they were a deep, brilliant blue, much like Elizabeth’s.

“Excuse me sir,” You called out to him, hoping that the blush you felt rise to your cheeks wasn’t too painfully apparent, “I’m sorry, but the restaurant isn’t opened yet.”

He stepped closer toward you, a boyish half smile plastered on his handsome features, “Hey darlin’, is Bub in yet?” His voice was silky and smooth, and you were surprised at how thick of an Irish accent he had.

“Um, well yes,” you responded nervously, “but he’s busy right now getting the restaurant ready for business, if you’d come back in about thirty minutes, I’m sure-“

“Hey (Name),” You heard Thomas suddenly call out behind you, drawing both your and the strangers attentions his way. You were a little startled to hear him call in his Irish accent, as he usually tried his best to hide it, only letting it slip around those he really trusted, “I thought I told you to keep the riff-raff out!”

You frowned, ready to apologize, when the stranger stepped past you and closer to Thomas, “Oh, so that’s what I am now? Riff raff?”

Thomas glared at him for a few seconds, before bursting out into laughter, “Well, how would you describe one such as yourself, Seamus?”

The man laughed in turn, an inviting and warm sound that you found yourself smiling at, “I guess it does sum me up pretty nicely, doesn’t it? Aw, Bub! It’s good to see ya again, man!”

“Good to see you too, brother,” Thomas responded, and both men embraced in a huge hug, “Well, I’m sure you have plenty to fill me in on, your absence has been longer than usual this time. (Name), you finish up here while I go and speak with Mr. Seamus, alright?”

You nodded, and watched as the two men entered the kitchen. For the first several minutes, you were a good girl and kept yourself away from ease dropping on your boss and his handsome friend. But as more time ticked by (and you got sick of rechecking all the tables for the third time), you quietly snuck your way next to the kitchen door, and peeped at them through a small opening on the side. 

“So, Daisy is safe now,” Thomas murmured, his back facing towards you, “I’m glad to hear that. The lass had me near worried to death.”

‘Daisy,’ you thought to yourself, ‘… Who is he talking about…’ Then it dawned on you, ‘Wait, he doesn’t mean Daisy Fiztroy, does he?! Why would Thomas care about the leader of the Vox Populi?’

“You and me both, Bub. I feared the worst this time around. But you know Daisy, she’s a fighter till the end.” Your eyes traveled up to Seamus as he spoke, and you no longer decided to control your blush. The man was beautiful, possibly the most beautiful you had seen. And his voice, so rich and inviting… His whole persona was just utterly attractive.

‘Get your mind out of the gutter, (Name),’ You chided yourself, shaking your head slightly, ‘Since when did you let yourself become such a fluster-y mess around attractive men? He’s only a person, and one that could mean trouble if he’s in cahoots with the Vox Populi…’ Though you felt very strongly about equality and fair treatment for all citizens in Columbia, something just didn’t sit right with you about the Vox. The militant way they conducted themselves recently put you on edge. You were no stranger to the stories of guns and weapons going missing in Finkton, and you had even seen first-hand the violent scene of police officers that had been gored by Vox brutality. These rare instances only served to fuel Columbians to spread more hate and abuse to the people of color who lived in the city, Vox affiliate or not. You wished they would realize that peace could not be gained through more violence, even if you felt it was warranted from them. You sighed lightly, and let you gaze fall back on Seamus, your eyes getting lost in his, ‘Well regardless, it doesn’t hurt to look at him, right?’

“Well, where is she now,” Thomas spoke again, “A safe place I hope? Out of the prophet and his loyal dog’s reaches?”

Seamus nodded, “She’s deep in Finkton. So deep, I’m not even sure of her exact whereabouts,” you could tell by the tone in his voice that his last comment bothered him, “I just know she’s safe, so I guess keeping me dumb to her whereabouts is for the better, eh?”

Thomas chuckled, “With the mouth on you, keeping her hidden is the only way to ensure she doesn’t get found!”

“Shut up,” Seamus hollered, punching Thomas square in the arm.

“Hey now, I was only joking! Don’t hit so hard, this is my cooking arm!”

You smiled as both men starting to laugh again. You had to admit, their joy was contagious.

“So Bub, now I have some questions for you,” Seamus finished laughing, wiping a rogue tear from his eye, “That girl out there… (Name), was it?”

Your body fell dead still as your name passed Seamus’s lips, and your heart rate started to quicken.

“Yeah,” Thomas drawled, “What about her?”

“Well, I’ve never seen her here before,” He responded, a devilish smirk appearing on her lips, “You always introduce me to everyone who works here, but the prettiest one by far you keep a secret? That doesn’t seem right!”

Your heart was beating so hard at this point you were afraid it would burst from your chest. You were also quite sure you had turned the color of a ripe tomato.

Thomas snorted, “Please, did you ever consider maybe there was a reason I didn’t tell you about her? Cause I knew your sorry ass’d be in here hounding her! She’s way outta your league, Seamus.” He finished by waving a floppy hand in the young man’s direction.

“Well, a man can dream, can’t he,” Seamus winked in a vaguely seductive manner. You weren’t sure how much more your heart could take, “How long has she been here?”

“About two years, now… Nearly the same amount of time you’ve been gone. She’s my favorite opener, and a damn hard worker. It’s a complete pleasure having her as part of the staff.”

“I can imagine,” Seamus slyly smiled, “But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen her somewhere before…”

“You very well may have, her ‘daddy’ is quite famous in Columbia.”

Your eyes grew wide, ‘Thomas please… Don’t tell him about Fink!’

“Is he now,” Seamus spoke, as he began clicking his tongue against the side of his mouth in thought, “Hmmm… Well, it’s not Comstock, otherwise she’d be in a cage,” Seamus laughed, but his comment put you off. How dare he joke so light heartedly about Elizabeth that way?!

“… Is it a politician? My God, it isn’t Stallonsworth, is it? I can’t stand that bastard!”

“No,” Thomas shook his head, “It’s someone much more… big. Very important fellow.”

“Well enough guessing dammit, tell me!”

Thomas was silent for a bit, and then with a deep sigh, he spoke again, “Alright, alright… Her full name is… (Name) Fink.”

You watched as the expression on Seamus’s face morphed from amused, to positively disgusted, “WHAT,” he bellowed, causing you to jump, “You hired Jeremiah Fink’s fucking DAUGHTER?! Are you goddamn INSANE?!”

“Will you quiet down,” Thomas hissed, “Christ, do you want to wake the whole damn neighborhood? And why the hell are you so pissy about it anyway?”

“Why am I pissy about it,” Seamus seethed, his face bright red, “don’t you realize what you’ve fucking done?! You’ve put this whole fucking place in jeopardy! All that little wench has to do is open her mouth once to her fucking daddy and the whole goddamn lot of us will find new permanent residence in Comstock house!” 

You were not only frightened at this point, but also deeply confused. Just what the hell were they talking about?! What big secret was Thomas keeping about this place?! You figured it was best to keep your mouth shut for the time being. As was always in Columbia, playing dumb could end up saving your ass.

“Do you really think I’d be so stupid as to let something like that happened,” Thomas exasperated, “Look, the girl cut her ties with Fink. She hates the bastard a hundred times more than any of us combined! She wouldn’t tell that asshole anything, and besides, she is only his adopted daughter! Christ, she doesn’t even know anything to tell him yet!!!”

“Yeah, well you think she cut her ties with him,” Seamus scoffed, “I’ve seen a lot of really great actresses here in Columbia, I wouldn’t be surprised if that little bitch was one of them. She’s probably keeping one ear here while her mouth runs to Fink. She needs to go, Thomas. Before she figures everything out and the whole operation is canned… That is if she hasn’t already snitched.” His words made your blood boil.

Thomas was quiet for a bit, leaving a heavy tension in the air, “… She stays. That girl has worked here for two years, if she was going to be a backstabber, she would have already done it. I trust her. You, however, don’t know shit and I don’t appreciate you ordering me around,” he got up and moved closer to Seamus, staring him dead in the eyes, “now I suggest you get out of here and cool down a bit. I got a restaurant to open.”

You took that as a sign, and booked it back to where you were previously. You fumbled around with the supplies on the table, trying your hardest to make yourself look ignorant to the conversation that just took place. You wiped the sweat from you brow, and cursed your shaky body. After a few seconds passed, you heard heavy footsteps stomp out of the kitchen, followed by the tell-tale creak of the kitchen doors being swung open too roughly. Despite your brain screaming that it was a bad idea, you slowly swiveled your head around to see a fuming Seamus towering in the door way, his cold blue eyes shooting pure hatred your way.

You snapped back around, and your body went numb as you heard his slow, heavy footsteps make his way toward you. Slowy, slowly, slowy, the sound of his feet hitting the ground seemed magnified in your fear. You held your breath, bracing yourself for whatever was to come. Finally, after what seemed like a century, he stopped right behind you. You didn’t glance back at him, but he was so close that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. He leaned down next to you, placing his left hand just inches from your own, his body leaning so close you were almost touching, his mouth just centimeters from your ear. Alarms were going off wildly in your head, and your heart froze as he opened his mouth to speak to you.

“You best watch yourself Miss Fink,” he whispered, sending cold shivers down your spine, the venom in his voice clashing heavily with the sweet smell of his cologne.

He hung for a few moments, and you could sense his piercing eyes watching for a response. When you didn’t grant him one, he roughly shoved off the table, and stormed out of the door. Once he was long gone, you released the large breath you were holding, and shuddering, you collapsed into the seat you were standing at.

Thomas appeared from the kitchen, rushing towards you when his eyes landed on your fallen form, “Jesus, you alright, love? I’m sorry, Seamus can be quite the nasty brute! I told that sonuva bitch to leave you be, but sometimes he’s just a raging bull!”

You nodded, griping your chest in an attempt to regain composure, “I’m fine, Thomas, thank you. He just… startled me a bit.” 

He gripped your shoulder protectively, “Well, you won’t have to worry about him anymore. Trust me when I say I’ll make sure the bastard never nears you again, so help me God!”

~

If only Thomas had been right.

For the next several weeks, whenever you were working and Thomas was not, Seamus made sure to be at the restaurant. At first, he did nothing but intimidate you. He’d stand to the side, glaring at you, watching your every movement. For a while, he succeeded in scaring you this way, but as more time passed, you started to get rather used to his evil glares. So, he decided to step up his game. He’d knock into you roughly, causing you to spill food trays and bus dishes. When you’d go to clean up the mess, he’d add to the pile by throwing his own garbage on top (and sometimes even on you). He’d often sit at one of the tables you were in charge of, just so that he could harass you endlessly. He’d slam doors on you, trip you, any number of things. He was making your life a living nightmare, and numerous times you almost walked out, tears streaming down your face. You stayed, however. You not only needed this job, you liked it, and you’d be damned is some man was going to bully you away from it, regardless of how scary he was. You survived Fink, you could survive this.

It was warm September morning, and the restaurant had been open for a little under an hour. There was only one couple waiting to dine at this point, as well as Seamus, leering in the corner, keeping his ever vigilant watch upon you. Though you were beyond sick of his bullying, you sucked it up, still staunchly refusing to let him get the better of you. With a forced smile on your face, you had begun to take the couples order when the opening of the front door interrupted the process.

A dark skinned girl named Cindi had entered the building, her arms bulging with bags of miscellaneous foods. She was one of the few employees of color at the restaurant, and her main job was to bring in fresh foods and ingredients for the oncoming day. Upon seeing you, she smiled widely, and called out to you, “Sorry I’m late today, these bags were heavier than I thought they’d be! I guess that’s a good thing, though. Seems they stuffed them extra full to give mister Thomas more bang for his buck!”

You smiled kindly at the girl, “Thank you, Cindi. Give me just a moment to take these peoples order and I’ll be over there to help you-“

“EXCUSE me?”

You glanced down to see the male end of the couple shooting you dirty looks, “I don’t very much appreciate you stopping to speak to some black girl while in the middle of my order.” The man snootily spoke, casting both you and the girl disgusted looks.

You gritted your teeth, “I’m terribly sorry, sir, but please understand. She’s an employed to bring us fresh food each day, so without her-“

“I don’t care what she is,” the man angrily boomed at you, causing you to jump, “a colored is a colored and I find it absolutely appalling that you interrupted an upstanding Columbian citizen to acknowledge that trash,” he spat, at Cindi, and you could see fear in her eyes, “Hell, I’m shocked this place would even hire such garbage to begin with, let alone let her saunter in through the front door. Disgusting… what is this great city coming to?!” He shook his head disdainfully, before returning to the menu, “Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, my wife and I will share the deluxe breakfast, and I’d like mine with a cup of coffee.”

You were positively seething with anger at this point, but you kept your composure, and forced a smile at the couple before saying, “Right away, sir.”

You dashed to the kitchen, ordering Marcus to make the most delicious and grand breakfast he possibly could, while you set to work preparing the hottest coffee you could. As the food was preparing, you stepped out to help Cindi with her bags, garnering more spiteful glances and comments from the couple, which you decided to ignore. Once you were done moving the bags, you ordered Cindi to sit and wait for you at a corner booth while you went and fetched her payment. When you headed back into the kitchen, both the coffee and food were ready to go.

“Order up,” Marcus called, handing you the elaborate food tray, “but hey, I heard what just went down out there. Why did you order me to make this dish so special when those people were being such assholes?”

You smiled mischievously at Marcus, grabbing the food from his hands, “Watch.”

You exited the kitchen, purposefully walking with an uneven sway. As you fumbled your way over to the table, you plastered the biggest smile on your face that you could muster. 

“Here we are,” you called overly happy, “sorry for the wait and the trouble sir, I hope this feast more than makes up for it!” You planted the food in front of him, causing him to smirk.

“Now that’s more like it. I’m glad you came to your senses. “He chided, grabbing his fork to dig in.

The smile on your face grew larger, “And here’s your coffee- OH NO!”

With a slight of your hand, you dumped not just a cup, but the whole canister of steaming hot coffee right on the man’s crotch. He let out of yodel of pain, pushing away from the table in disgust.

“YOU STUPID GIRL,” He fumed, veins bulging from his face in anger, “LOOK WHAT YOU DID! YOU NOT ONLY BURNED ME, YOU RUINED MY FUCKING SUIT!” 

“Oh no sir, I’m terribly sorry,” you whined mock-sadly, looking at the man doe-eyed, “I’m usually so good with carrying things! Here, let me help you! It’s the least I can do!” But as your hand reached over to ‘help’ him, you made sure to knock the cream and sugar into his lap as well, further adding to the mess.

At this point, he was far too angry to say anything other than a string of unintelligible curses. Lauching himself out of the chair, he grabbed his wife’s wrist, and pulled her out the building with him, leaving a trails of sugary coffee in his wake. Stifling your laughter, you scooped up the tray of untouched food, and made your way over to Cindi.

“It sure would be a waste to dump all this food, but I guess it can’t be helped” you nonchalantly sighed, placing the tray on the edge of the baffled girls table, “Cindi, would you be a dear and make sure to dispose of this out back for me,” you winked at her, before placing several more silver eagles than normal in front of her, “here’s a little bonus for all the extra trouble.”

The girl sat stunned for a bit before her face slowly started to creep into a smile, tears pooling at the edge of her eyes, “I sure will ma’am… Thank you so much.”

You sighed contentedly as you watched her shuffle away, food and money in hand. Putting up with all the bastards in Columbia was worth it when you were able to help those who deserved it.

You twisted around, ready to see what kind of mess Seamus had added to the couples when you gasped in surprise. Not only had he not mucked things up further, the whole mess has been cleaned up, as if the events that just transpired didn’t happen at all.

And Seamus was nowhere to be found.

~ 

After your shift, you tiredly stumbled out of the building with a small wave to all your coworkers inside. It had been quite the long day and you were on your feet almost nonstop. You sighed heavily, not looking forward to the walk home, as you pushed your body into motion.

‘Today was intense,’ You thought to yourself, ‘What between the happenings of this morning topped with nearly a nonstop flow of people, I wasn’t sure I’d make it through! I’m just glad Seamus didn’t show up again to add to the craziness of the day… even if his absence does baffle me a little.’

“That was one hell of a performance, earlier.”

You halted in your steps as that all too familiar drawl filled your ears. Glancing over wearily, you saw none other than Seamus standing in distance, arms crossed and leaning against a street light. He flashed you a smile, and raised his hand in a small wave, “Hey.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, and continued advancing forward, picking up the pace. Unfortunately, he was quick to follow behind you.

“Look, I wanted to apologize,” he called to you, jogging slightly till he was directly to your right.

“It’s a little late for that,” You coldly retorted, walking even faster while staring pointedly ahead, “I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone now, thank you.”

“Hey now,” he called, grabbing your arm, which caused you to spin around and tear away from him violently.

“Don’t you DARE touch me,” you hissed, “For the past weeks all you’ve done is make my life a living nightmare when I’ve done absolutely NOTHING to you. You are a thug, and a scoundrel, and I don’t care what you have to say to me! Now leave me ALONE.”

You stood staring at each other for a few seconds, before you turned sharply on your heel and began to storm off again, when the sudden sincerity in his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Christ, I really am trash, aren’t I,” You turned your head slowly, to see that a pained frown befell his handsome features, “I got so goddamn scared by the name Fink that I couldn’t think straight, and attacked a perfectly innocent person without provocation. I’ve been a real no good, ruthless, sonuva bitch to you, and I apologize. You didn’t deserve that in the least,” you turned all the way around, and he looked up at you with a sad smile, “What I saw today made me see what a dumbass I’ve been. You’re a true beauty (Name), inside and out, and I apologize with all that I am… And I was just wondering… Well, if you allow it, I’d like to make it up to you. At least try to.”

You stared at him a bit, judging the truthfulness of his words, “… And how would you go about doing that?”

He perked up, his smile turning sincere and joyous, “Well, by taking you on a date, of course!”

You blushed, averting your gaze from him, and crossing your arms, “And what makes you think I’d even want to go out with a bully such as yourself?”

He laughed, “Well, you have a point there. If I were you, I’d probably turn me down too… But I promise you with all that I am I will make it worth my time. Please, let me make my childish idiotic actions up to you, lass.”

Everything in your head was screaming no. The way the man treated you, his playboy persona… Even just the thought of dating him all seemed horribly wrong. And not simply because you didn’t want to, but because that same deep, foreboding feeling that had been trailing you since the day you came into Columbia was telling you that it just wasn’t right. As soon as he asked, it was as if a loud, nagging whisper was in your ear telling you that this man was not the one you should be spending your time on. With all those thoughts whirring in your head, you took yourself by surprise when you heard your voice choke out a okay.

The man smiled, overjoyed, “Great!!! Wonderful, I won’t let you down,” he beamed, shoving his hand out towards you, “By the way, I’m Seamus… I don’t think I’ve ever really properly introduced myself.”

“… I’m (Name),” you also held your hand out, growing hot as he gingerly grabbed it, pressing it softly to his lips.

“Well Miss (Name), are you free tomorrow,” you nodded, “Marvelous! What say we meet here tomorrow around noon, and we’ll go from there?”

“A-alright.” You stuttered, and smiled sheepishly at the man as he began to happily trot off into the distance, “You won’t regret this, I promise!” He called over to you before disappearing for good.

You were really hoping he was right.

~

A/N: Now… I know what you are thinking. “Wait… Who the hell is that guy? That isn’t Booker?! What the heck mang, why you making me go on a date such an asshole?!”  
All I can tell you is that Seamus is important to the story and that it will all work out in the end and that I love you little moth’s for sticking with me and I promise this is still a Booker X Reader chapter and that you have nothing to fret over!

Also, if you are sitting their wondering what ‘ol Seamy looks like… I pretty much picture him looking exactly like Vergil from the DMC reboot; All suave and incredibly pretty, like. His personality is also based of Vergil’s mixed with Dante and Atlas from the original Bioshock… So he’s pretty fucked up. *Sighs* Yeah…

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I had a rather swell time writing it. Just a heads up, the next chapter is gonna be QUITE the doozy, so it may take a little time to get it to you lovely readers, but I promise it’s coming! :D

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE READ!!!

BOOKER COUNTDOWN, T-MINUS 2 CHAPTERS! PREPARE YOUR OVARIES, LADIES.


	14. Vox Populi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a decision you weren't decided on, but was made for you nonetheless...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Labored breathing* Hello everyone, Mothra here, finally coming atcha with chapter 12. … It’s over twenty pages long. By far the longest chapter I’ve written. BUT! Once you get through this, YOU GET TO BOOKER. IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME!
> 
> Prepare yourself, a LOT of stuff is about to go down!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Also, I don’t own the song Heaven Knows. That belongs to the Pretty Reckless, and is the theme song to this chapter! :D
> 
> Carry on, my dears, carry on! :D

Again, you found yourself aboard that small rowboat, desperately fighting the seas while you were being roughly tossed side to side, the salty wetness slapping your face mercilessly.

The lighthouse loomed in the distance, and per usual, you were hot on the trail of the three strangers in the boat.

Hope was clinging desperately to your heart. This time was different… This time, you were closer to them than you ever were before.

“PLEASE,” You screamed, your voice hoarse and body weary, “PLEASE, WAIT! WAIT FOR ME! DON’T GO!”

You watched broken hearted as the boat ahead of you reached the lighthouse long before yours ever would. The lone man left the boat, and made his way up to the door at the base of the lighthouse while the other two strangers rowed off in the distance. You prepared yourself for the waves to consume you, when once again the dream took you by surprise by deviating from the norm.

The man stopped what he was doing, and though you were still too far to make out any details about him, you were sure he had turned around and was looking directly your way.

Your heart lit up with hope, relief encompassing your body. But just as a smile had crossed your lips, your boat was (as always) consumed by the cold and unforgiving ocean.

~

It had been years since you had that dream, and it had left you shaken to your core. 

Needless to say, you didn’t get much sleep for the rest of the night.

Regardless, after the next day rolled around, right at noon, you stood patiently in the exact spot Seamus told you he’d meet you. Between last night’s dream and waiting on Seamus, you battled to keep your nerves at bay. Still very much unsure of what manner of man Seamus truly was, and also being completely new to the “dating” scene (if that’s what you could even classify this day as, you weren’t entirely sure), you were left a nervous wreck who had little to no idea how react in this situation. You yawned tiredly, hoping the day would turn out a lot better than you worried it would.

“Oh geez, I’m already boring you and the day hasn’t even begun yet,” You heard a familiar Irish voice tease you from a distance. 

Glancing to your left, your eyes befell Seamus, and you knew you were in trouble when you became embarrassed by just the mere sight of him, your cheeks glowing red instantly.   
He was dressed to the nines in a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated his body in all the right ways. His hair was slicked back debonairly, and the way he sauntered over to you with a teasing little smile on his lips just made your face burn even redder. This was torture, of that you were sure.

“N-no, not at all,” You stuttered, shaking your head and waving your hands in front of you exasperatedly, “Forgive me, it’s just that I had some trouble sleeping last night.”

“Oh,” he grinned, cocking an eyebrow, “Was it because you couldn’t stop thinking of me?”

“Oh please, don’t get ahead of yourself,” You smirked, hoping to hide your nerves behind a façade of nonchalance. 

Seamus pouted, “Way to crush a man’s dreams, darlin’! Especially when the reason I couldn’t sleep last night was because I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

Just as his words made your blush deepen, he held out his hand, a small (yet beautiful) bouquet of (color) roses fully in bloom in his grasp. You took them slowly, marveling their beauty, your face lighting up in joy. No one had ever gotten you flowers before, let alone a handsome man. A breathy ‘thank you’ escaped your lips, as you continued to glance them over, gingerly smelling their sweet scent.

He laughed, “I knew they’d be a winner,” he then softly took your other hand, tugging at it much like a small child would do to an adult, “Come now, let’s start our adventure!”

~

Your first stop was a beautiful little area somewhere outside Emporia.

“I grew up in Ireland,” he smiled at you brightly over a picnic lunch he had set up for the two of you that was nestled away in a secluded spot, “born and raised till I was about twelve. My dad was a farmer, and he worked hard his whole damn life. He was the hardest working man this world has ever seen! Even still, my family was poor,” his faced turned rigid at this point, as he stared off into the distance, a look of pain in his eyes, “Man worked himself to the bone, and those goddamn suited thieves took all his crop, replacing it with meager change! Needless to say, when my mother got sick, we didn’t have enough to care for her. So, we were forced to sit and watch as she got sicker and sicker, until she decayed into nothingness. A year after my mom, my old man followed suit and passed to the great beyond. The doc told me it was a stroke that did ‘im in, but to this day I still believe it was from a broken heart.”

You frowned, “That’s awful… I’m so sorry to hear that, Seamus. What happened to you from there?”

He inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly, “Well, the old man did manage to store a little money away, so I was able to make it on my own for a wee bit, hiding here and there to avoid orphanages. I eventually scrounged up enough from begging and odd jobs to make it to America, and after struggling quite a bit there for a few years I ended up hearing about Columbia. ‘A heaven in clouds, a land of opportunity,’” just as he said those words, a couple passed by and scoffed at his thick accent, “Ha! Well, as you can see, I was swindled. But regardless, here I am fighting the good fight! And really, it isn’t all bad. I mean, Columbia led me to you, didn’t it,” he gave you a sultry smile, once again causing your cheeks to illuminate, “But enough of me droning on! Tell me about you, where did you come from? I figure you weren’t born here. I doubt such an awful place could produce someone so lovely.”

“I grew up in New York,” You spoke quietly, staring off in the distance as the words past your lips, “my father moved from Ireland, much like yourself, and found work with my grandfather. He met my mother, fell in love, and after a while they got married and my sister Katherine and I were brought into the world. In the early days, everything was lovely. My sister, mother, father and I were all well off and happy… But as usual in this life, we fell on hard times. My mother and father started to fight, and it got so bad they ended up splitting. My sister left after that to become a nun. My mother and I moved in with my grandparents, and things started to get better from there… That is until the letters started arriving.”

“Letter’s?” Seamus cocked an eyebrow, while taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

You nodded, “From Jeremiah Fink.”

A heavy frown appeared on his face, “No.”

“How else do you think I ended up in this mess? It surely wasn’t my choice,” You sighed deeply, “Well, one thing lead to another, first marriage, then Columbia. While I have been stuck up here, I have had no contact with my loved ones down below. I worry about my father endlessly, and there is never a day he doesn’t cross my mind. And my sist-“ your voice cracked, and you fought back a wave of sadness, “my sister died in an accident a few years back; news we found out through the Lutece’s… I never had the chance to so much as see her after she left for the Abbey,” a tear rolled down your cheek, and your eyes stared down fixedly at the balled up, shaky fists in your lap, “I live with guilt of abandoning her every day.”

“Hey now,” A silky voice spoke gently to you as two strong (and surprisingly thin) hands cupped your face pulling your gaze up to Seamus’ sparkling blue eyes, “the way I see it, a little girl getting forced up here doesn’t count as abandonment. Your sister’s with the angels now, she’s at peace. And with you this close to the heavens, I’m sure she’s keeping quite the eye on you,” he then turned to the sky, and surprised you by yelling, “HEY KATHERINE, ARE YA THERE? YOUR SISTER IS WORRIED SICK! GIVE US A SIGN THAT YOU HEAR US AND THAT YOU LOVE HER, WHY DON’T YA?”

As if on cue, a large cloud that had been looming over the two of you suddenly parted, letting a bright ray of sun shine through, “Well there you have it,” Seamus laughed, and winked at you, “She doesn’t hold any ill will towards ya, and I even think she likes me! Now, no more tears. This is supposed to be a day of fun AND I have a strict no crying policy about pretty ladies, do you understand?”

You smiled as a light chuckle escaped your lips. You wiped the last remaining tears from your eyes, “Understood, sir. Now, that we finished our lovely meal, what do you have planned for us next?”

~

The day turned into an explosion of activity as Seamus bustled you around the city, taking you here and there, in all the little hidden nooks and crannies you hadn’t ever heard of, let alone visited. Though you were out literally the whole day, you were so caught up in the fun of it all that the hours you had spent in Seamus’ company seemed like minutes. Steady joy radiated from within as he whisked you about Columbia, excitement over where he would take you next sending your heart aflutter.

As the day was coming to a close, he decided to end the date with a bang at the amusement park in Soldier’s Field. Somehow or another, Seamus had convinced you to ride on the Ferris wheel, a ride you had been terrified of since childhood.

“Damn (Name),” Seamus laughed, “You are gripping that handle bar so tightly you may break it! Ease up, lassy!”

“Easy for you to say,” You shot back, trying your hardest not to stare down at the endless drop below you “You aren’t afraid of heights!”

“How can a girl who’s afraid of heights live in Columbia?” He chided, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“That’s different! When I’m walking around the city, I’m on solid ground, and I don’t have to look down at all the many miles below me! But up here, dangling on this rickety little swing that I’m barely strapped in to and could break and plummet us down to earth at any second, I don’t feel so safe.”

“Aw, come now! This old gal is as sturdy as can be! Just look!” With those words, Seamus started to heavily shake your swing back and forth, causing the ride to groan irritably under the pressure, and nearly stop your heart.

“STOP THAT,” You yelled, releasing your hands from the bar, and instead clung them tightly onto Seamus , “Please, I mean it!!!”

Seamus laughed playfully, “Alright, alright, I guess I made my point… Besides now that I got your arms wrapped around me, I have no further need to scare ya.” His words never ceased to make you blush.

After a few more times around, the ride slowed, and halted your car right at the top. You sighed, upset that you’d be stuck motionless for at least a minute or two, “Great. They had to stop us at the tip top, didn’t they?”

“Well look at the bright side,” Seamus smiled, wrapping his arm smoothly around your shoulders, “Now we have more time to ourselves.”  
For several moments, you sat in silence, enjoying Seamus’ company. His warmth, his smell, the feel of his arm around you… It was all so different and so exciting. It was… nice. 

Yes, that’s how you could classify it. But even still, there was that same pull at your heart. Something you just couldn’t explain telling you this was wrong. You sighed softly, consumed by confusion. Were all dates this perplexing to the soul?

“(Name),” Seamus spoke suddenly, a serious edge to his voice.

“Hm?” You responded, glancing up to see that his carefree face had morphed into a stone serious expression.

“Look,” He sighed deeply, running a hand through his golden hair, “… I… I really like you. I’ve had a total blast today, a lot more fun than I think I’ve ever had in this cesspool of a city, and being in your company just makes me feel… well, for lack of a better term, amazing, “ you smiled sheepishly at his words, before he continued, “I’d love to spend more time with you and see where this relationship takes us, but there is one thing you need to know about me if we are going to keep seeing each other.”

You began to sweat nervously, “What is it? What do I need to know?”

After a moment of silence, he turned to you, sternly staring into your eyes, “I’m a member of the Vox. And not just a normal member, I am one of Daisy Fitzroy’s selected elites, one of her right hand men.” 

You stifled a gasp. It was true that ever since you heard him talking to Thomas that you knew he at least had some sort of affiliation with the Vox… but to be so high up in its ranks? It caused a shiver to go down your spine.

“Now, I wouldn’t tell you this unless I trusted you and know where you stand on matters such as this,” Seamus continued, glancing off into the distance, “I’m rather good at hiding my identity, if I may say so myself, but even still, you should know that being with me is dangerous. However, I do think I’m a danger worth keeping,” Smugly and quickly, he roughly pulled you closer to him, so that your faces were mere centimeters apart, “If you become my girl, I promise to do all that’s in my power to protect you… And together, we can help lead the revolution, bringing the working class of Columbia the lives and the respect they deserve. What do you say, love?”

Whether it was the conviction in his voice, the determined shine in his eye, the beating of his heart so close to yours, or just his overwhelming essence and heat of the moment, you weren’t really sure. But as you accepted his proposal, and he pulled you in for a rough, passionate kiss (the first of your life), for a moment, you felt despite your previous feelings, maybe you had made the right choice. Maybe, just maybe, Seamus really was the one for you. 

After you awkwardly stumbled through the kiss, he leaned closely to you, so that his mouth was right next to your ear.

“Good girl I knew I could count on you,” He cooed possessively, causing goose bumps to pimple your flesh.

Your breath hitched, and your stomach started to do angry flips. You were praying you wouldn’t regret this decision.

~

It had been about three months since you and Seamus had started dating, but this was the first time you had seen Elizabeth since it happened. When you were finally able to see her and relay the news on this late October’s day, she was beside herself with excitement.

“YOU HAVE A BEAU?!”

“Elizabeth please,” You called, covering your ears after the sixteen year old girl’s screech, “Could you not yell directly in my ear?!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth bounced excitedly, her hands balled into small, shaky fists, “It’s just… How exciting is that?! I am so proud of you, (Name)! Your life is really coming together… what with first leaving ‘ol Fink in the dust, then getting your own place, then scoring a job, and now you have a man!!! I am so happy for you,” She wrapped her arms around you excitedly, causing you to laugh, “Tell me all about him! What’s his name, what does he look like, what does he do?! Can you sneak him up here? I want to meet him!!! Come on spill it, (Name)!”

“Woah, one thing at a time there,” You smiled at your friend, gently scooting her off of you, “Well… um… Geez, where do I start,” You nervously laughed, scratching your head, “Uh… do you remember that guy I told you about? …The one at my work who kept antagonizing me?”

Elizabeth thought for a second, and then scoffed, “Oh yeah, THAT jerk. How could I forget that piece of trash? I’ve had MANY a dream of shoving that guy through a tear that leads to a pit of hungry sharks… Wait… don’t tell me! Did your new man beat him up or something?! Oh, please tell me that’s how you met!!! How grand and romantic would that be?!”

“Well… You see, um… Actually,” You averted your eyes, too nervous to peer into Elizabeth’s as you spoke, “That man’s name is Seamus… And he’s actually my… boyfriend… now.” Saying the word ‘boyfriend’ when talking about Seamus felt so foreign it made your lips tingle, a small blush lighting your cheeks.

“… Are you messing with me right now?” Elizabeth sternly responded, hand on her hip and quizzical, judging stare in her eyes.

You shook your head, “No, not at all.”

“(Name)!,” She whined, flopping herself down dramatically on the couch, “What are you doing?! That guy treated you horrendously, why in the heck would you give him the time of day, let alone your heart?! I can’t believe this!”

You sighed deeply, “Well, first off, he’s apologized, and since the apology, he’s done a complete turnaround. Second off, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’ve ‘given’ him my heart yet. I mean, we just started dating three months ago... But… he is quite something that is for sure.” You let a small, joyous smile form on your lips while you envisioned him in your head. Your blush grew brighter.

“Oh please, what do you take me for? The look on your face says it all, (Name), you are smitten,“ Elizabeth sighed grumpily, pouting a bit, “Look, I don’t care how much he apologized, it still makes me mad! And it also doesn’t explain why he treated you that way in the first place, that… that… jerk!!!”

You gave your friend an amused smile, feeling rather guilty that she was getting so worked up about this, “Elizabeth, please, calm down. Do you really think I’d spend so much time on a man who would continue to treat me like garbage? Have a little faith in me, geez,” your smile then turned sly, “Hey… let’s cool off for a minute and practice some dancing, huh?”

Elizabeth perked up at your proposition. A long time ago, you and Elizabeth established a code through dancing. If you were ever to say you wanted to practice, or she was ever to say she wanted you to practice, it meant that you had some secret you needed to relay in the most private way possible. Though at this point in your lives you were both quite sure that no one was keeping watch on your happenings in the tower, you set up this plan just to be absolutely sure. When you were dancing, you and Elizabeth could get close and whisper secrets to each other without looking in the least bit suspicious. And by telling each other softly and verbally with background music to cover it up, no record could be kept of what you said. You were both quite proud of thinking this method up, and used it as often as you could.

“What kind of dancing?” The girl cocked her eyebrow, totally intrigued.

“A slow one,” you smiled, “Very intimate. I want to learn some new moves for my beau.”

Without another word, Elizabeth rushed to her record player and commenced with a slow, romantic tune for you and she to move to. She hustled (a little too eagerly, in your opinion) to your side, and grabbed onto you jerkily, pulling you closer to her.

“OK,” she smiled, struggling a bit to catch her breath, “Follow my motions. This one will be real easy because it’s so much like ones I have taught you before. First, put your hand here, and your arm there,” after you did as instructed, she continued, “Good! Now, put your face next to mine, like so.” She moved her head in so as it was right next to yours, so close, your faces were nearly touching.

“Alright, I’ll follow your lead then,” you responded, placing your face next to hers to follow suit.

“Good,” She said loudly, and then whispered, “Now… What is it that you need to be so secretive about, huh?”

“Seamus… The reason he treated me so poorly…,” You whispered back, nervously tightening your grip on Elizabeth, fearful that by some twist of fate someone would hear you, 

“It’s because he is a member of the Vox Populi.” Elizabeth faltered for a brief moment in her dancing, causing you to slip up as well, 

“Whoa, sorry about that, I lost track of my footing,” She laughed, and then whispered quickly, “Are you serious?! The Vox?!”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, my clumsy feet probably caused you to mess up in the first place,” You smiled, then whispered, “You heard right, and he’s not just a member. He’s one of   
Daisy Fitzroy’s right hand men.”

You stumbled again, nearly falling, as this news caused Elizabeth to full on stop, staring at you with wide eyes.

“No,” She spoke incredulously, shaking her head a slight bit.

“Sorry I did that part wrong, I’ll try harder this time around,” You latched onto her again, assuming your old position before whispering back in her ear, “Hey, keep up the act! I know no one is probably listening in, but in the event they are, I would be in an endless amount of trouble for telling you this!!!”

“He really is, though,” she hysterically whispered, her grip also tightening on you, “I mean, he’s really Daisy’s right hand man?!”

“Yes… Well, that’s what he said at least, but he really doesn’t have any reason to lie, and I did hear him talk to Thomas about Daisy once before… The whole reason he treated me so awful to begin with was because he knew I was Fink’s ‘daughter’, and believed I shared his ideals. Once he found out how I truly feel about that man and this city, he changed his tune real quick.”

“(Name)… I just… I don’t even know what to say. I mean, I can’t really completely forgive him for treating you so awful before, and I still think he’s quite the ass for doing what he did to you, regardless of the reason… but I do have to admit that this is a rather exciting turn of events! Hey, you don’t think he could possibly rally the Vox and have them break me out of here, do you?!”

You stifled a laugh, “No, I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t work out at all. Besides, he has no idea I have access to you. You know that’s not something I really want to share with anyone, for your protection as well as my own.”

You could feel her pout beside you, “Well fine, crush my dreams I suppose. But you are right; I guess it is for the better he doesn’t know about our relationship… I mean, he’d probably get super jealous, what with me slow dancing with his lady and all.” This time, you both laughed.

Elizabeth pulled away then, holding you at arm’s length while looking you in the eyes, a pleasant smile on her face “And there you have it,” She beamed, “An intimate slow dance sure to make even the grumpiest person fall in love with you. The next time you see that boy, I want you to knock him dead with that one!” She finished with an eager wink.

~

Walking home from Elizabeth’s, you clutched a letter for your father tightly in your hand. It had been quite some time since you had dropped off a letter at the Lutece’s, and the guilt was starting to become too much to manage.

You bustled along, pulling your jacket tighter around you as the cool October breeze tossed your hair and clothing about. After several minutes of walking, you had reached the final turn in the road to reach the labs. You smiled in relief. You’d be happy to drop off this letter and make it back to the warmth of your apartment.

But you were stopped in dead your tracks when you rounded the corner to find the Lutece’s lab sectioned off, swarming with police, and surrounded by a rather sizeable crowd.

Mouth agape with concern, you jogged over to get a better look. After getting a better view of the happenings, you turned to the lady closest to you to ask what had happened.

“Did something happen in that lab,” You questioned worriedly, “Are the Lutece’s alright?!”

“Oh, dear,” the woman cooed, sadness seeping from her features, “Rosalind and Robert were murdered last night, right in their own labs! Can you believe it? A murder right here in Emporia! It’s truly dreadful news… They were such bright people! So many more grand things were to come from them, I’m sure…”

Your shoulders slumped, a deep frown chiseling into your face. ‘Murder,’ you thought, as your eyes sadly passed back over to the lab, ‘Who in the world would want the Lutece’s murdered? They are the reason Columbia exists, after all! Who would do such a thing?!’

“Shows over folks,” a police officer called, shooing everyone away from the scene, “You all need to get back to your daily happenings so we can investigate thoroughly. We thank you for your cooperation.”

One by one, the crowd began to break up, leaving you the only one not budging. Your eyes stayed focused on the lab in disbelief, as your heart continued to sink, ‘This can’t be real… I just don’t understand.’ You stared down at the letter in your hand, your shaky hands crumpling it in your tight grasp.

“More good byes I’ll never get to make.” You shakily whispered, sniffling a bit to fight back tears.

“Don’t bother with being sad about this,” A familiar accented woman’s voice called out directly behind you, instantly grabbing your attention, “And certainly don’t cry over it. We won’t be far.”

“Indeed,” A similar male voice responded, “There really is no use crying, especially when this actually benefits us. Who knew being ‘dead’ could be so liberating?”

You whipped around to face the voices, finding no one.

“… Am I going mad?” You spoke aloud, scanning the area for any trace of the twins, and coming up empty. You sighed, and started to walk away, when your foot fell on something that made a light crunching noise. Staring down, you saw it was a memo from Lutece Labs, folded in half.

You bent down slowly, picking it up and unfolding it with a gentle ease. The frown on your lips deepened in confusion as a jotted down message from Rosalind only invited more mystery into your life.

(Name)-

Prepare yourself, he will be here sooner than you’d expect.

-R. Lutece

~

The moment he stepped in the room, you knew something was wrong.

It had been a rather long time since you had last seen Seamus, and upon hearing the door swing open, you swiveled around expectantly, a warm smile lighting your face. But as soon as your eyes befell his, the smile vanished. His face was stern, his gaze hard and calculating. He lumbered his way over to you slowly, almost intimidatingly, causing your body to begin to lightly sweat. ‘What is going on,’ you fidgeted nervously, as he leaned down to place a little too rough of a kiss on the top of your head, ‘Why is he acting this way?’

He made his way over the seat opposite you, lowering himself with a loud grunt. Once he had situated himself, he stared back up at you, his eyes burning deeply into yours. He continued to stay silent, only adding to your discomfort.

“Seamus,” you started in the calmest voice you could muster, “Are you-“

“Anything you want to tell me?”

The harshness in his voice, as well as the way he abruptly cut you off, caused you to jump, “What do you mean? Seamus, what is the matter?”

He sighed angrily, shaking his head a slight bit, “(Name), don’t play dumb with me. Now speak up! I want you to tell me in your own words where you went last Saturday.”

“Last Saturday…?” You started, confused, until the memory dawned on you. Last Saturday Seamus came home earlier than expected from one of his missions, and wanted to spend the day with you. However, that was your day with Elizabeth, and if you didn’t see her then, you wouldn’t see her for another several months. So, you made up some kind of excuse in order to visit her. You swallowed heavily, worried about the path this conversation was about to take.

“YES last Saturday,” he boomed, slapping his hand roughly on the table in front of you, “you know, the day I came home early to spend time with you, a day you had off from work yet for some reason, had other plans you couldn’t elaborate about? Yes, please tell me about that Saturday.” His voice was growing more and more venomous.

You shook your head, “Seamus, please, calm down! I know you are concerned, but-“

“DAMN RIGHT, I’M CONCERNED-“ He bellowed, pushing himself off the table so that he was towering over you, “What man wouldn’t be when he makes a surprise trip to see his girl, only to watch as she sneaks away to Monument Tower! And whom were you meeting their, love? A scientist? A doctor?!”

“You followed me?!” You responded shocked, your voice rising now as well, “Seamus… How could you?! When have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?!”

“Right now, apparently,” his exasperated voice whined, followed by a heavy sigh, “Look, while I’m away I have some guys keep an eye on you time and again to make sure you are safe, but when I start getting weird reports about you sneaking off places I get a little conce-“

“Hold on,” your angry voice cut him off, as you joined him in standing, “You are telling me that not only did YOU follow me, but you have OTHER people keep tabs on me as well? Seamus, that is absolutely ridiculous!!! How dare you invade my privacy that way, I don’t care WHAT your intentions were!!!” You were steaming at this point.

He snorted disgustedly, “Yeah, well sorry I interrupted your love fest with someone who is obviously FAR better than I? What, Fink hook you up, or-“

“GODDAMN IT, SEAMUS, STOP BEING SUCH AN ASS! I WASN’T HOOKING UP WITH ANYBODY, I WAS JUST VISITING ELIZA-beth.”

You finished your booming explanation in a squeak, instantly gasping at the horror of what you just said struck you. Your hands flew up to cover your mouth, as your body broke out in a cold sweat. Your secret was out. The one person you wanted to protect from everyone, keeping her a secret so that no one could ever exploit her… And you just so foolishly let her name slip to a member of the Vox Populi.

Seamus glanced at you for quite some time, the fierce anger in his eyes melting into confusion, “Pardon… Did you just say… Elizabeth?”

You turned away from him, shaking your head roughly, “Forget I said anything, please.” You pleaded, balling your hands tightly to your chest.

You heard him laugh a bit behind you, “Elizabeth, as in Comstock’s daughter? The Lamb of Columbia? THAT Elizabeth?”

You grumbled, very much upset, “Seamus please, just forget it!” You turned on your heal to once again face him, and you became quite taken back by the look of absolute joy beaming from his face.

“Love, do you know what wonderful news that is,” he excitedly rushed to you, grabbing your shoulders roughly, “I mean, I had heard rumors that there was type of experiment where the lamb came in contact with another girl, but I thought that was all just a myth! To find out that it’s real, and that YOU are that girl! Think about all the possibilities we’d have with her and that Songbird bloke on our side! We’d be unstoppable! The Vox would surely gain the upper hand, and seeing the look on Comstock’s face as we use his daughter against him? HA! It’d be priceless! Who’d in a million years think we’d get such a powerful asset on our-“

“STOP!”

Your violent scream halted Seamus’s feverish blabbering, wiping the smug happiness off his face instantly. He stared at you, shocked to see you quaking violently in his arms, anger radiating from your irate, glowering eyes. Your face was glowing red, and your whole body expelled such a fierce vibe, that Seamus immediately let go of you, taking several steps back to distance himself.

“First off, how DARE you disrespect my privacy by sending some goons to keep an eye on me, just because YOU have trust issues! You don’t see me send men to watch over you when you leave me without so much as a peep for MONTHS at a time, do you,” you let your anger fuel you on as you watched his shock twist into a melancholic look, “And secondly, letting you know about Elizabeth was an accident, and it NEVER should have crossed my lips! I never told you about her to begin with because not only does it put ME in danger, but it puts HER in even more danger… You… You could never understand what she means to me,” tears blurred your vision as thoughts of the girl entered you head, and your voice came out shaky as you continued on, “She’s the only family I have left, and I’ll be DAMNED if I let you use her as some kind of playing piece in your violent games against Comstock. I LOVE HER, AND IF YOU SO MUCH AS TRY AND HAVE THE VOX LAY A FINGER ON HER, I WILL MAKE PERSONALLY SURE THAT SONGBIRD HIMSELF SWOOPS DOWN AND ENDS THE OPERATION, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

Seamus hovered for a bit, watching you with his deep blue eyes as you fought to calm your blubbering, shaky, mess of a self. Though your words were threatening and strong, more than anything, you felt incredibly vulnerable at that point. The thought of Elizabeth in Vox hands, being exploited and most likely abused for their gain and their gain only, made you positively sick. And knowing you were the reason behind it… You couldn’t live with that. You wouldn’t.

“(Name),” Seamus’ voice came softly, as your eyes darted towards him to see that he was making his way towards you. You took a large step back, holding yourself and shaking your head violently, “(Name), please… I’m sorry… God, am I sorry. Look, I have no excuse for how I just acted, truly. I was once again being a real piece of shit… So I understand if you will be mad at me for quite some time, maybe forever… But know that for as long as I live, I only do what I do out of love, and I never mean to hurt you… I had no clue you were so close to the Lamb,” you slowly let him near you, accepting his enveloping embrace with little resistance, “I am so, so, sorry. I promise your secret is safe with me. I’ll never let a soul know about you and Elizabeth. I’ll take it to my grave. On my honor, I’ll defend both of you with all that I am for as long as I live.”

You sniffled, burying your face in his thick broad chest, “… Do you really mean that? You swear?”

He nodded, “Of course, love. Your secrets are my secrets. Now dry those tears. It isn’t fitting for a girl as pretty as you to be in such a state.”

You nodded, wiping the wetness from your eyes. Your body slowly slunk back into ease, happy to know that above all else, at least Elizabeth would continue to be safe.

~

Befuddled, and a little on edge, you walked the streets of Columbia late at night by your lonesome. At this point, it had been two years since you and Seamus had been seeing each other, and all through those years he had still managed to retain some mystery to you. Like, for instance, why he had sent you a letter a week ago (as usual, after not seeing or hearing from him for over a month) telling you out of the blue to meet him at the Fellow Traveler at one in the morning. You sighed as you picked up the pace. Yes, he could be very mysterious indeed, enough to really get under your skin.

Once you reached the building, you managed to sneak in as unnoticeably as possible. After successfully making it in (causing you to feel even worse after having to ‘break in’ to your place of occupation), you let your eyes adjust to the darkness, focusing on a small, orange glow nearby. As you walked closer, you realized the glow was from a cigarette hanging dully out of none other than Seamus’ lips. You stepped up quietly behind him, startling him as you pulled it from his lips.

“Where have you been?” You spoke sternly, smashing the cigarette down into a nearby ashtray. 

“Jesus, love, you scared me,” he jumped, his hand on his chest, “Slippery gal you are, I didn’t hear you come in!”

“Answer my question.” You spoke sternly again, arms crossing your chest defiantly.

“Love, please… You know where I was. I was doing Vox work.”

“And you couldn’t write or visit? Not even once? I mean, Columbia is big, but not so big that you couldn’t stop by every now and again.” 

He sighed, flustered, “You know that I couldn’t, (Name). It’d put us both in too much danger. Look, I’m sorry, and if it’s any consolation at all, the thought of you never left my mind the whole time I was gone AND I plan on more than making it up to you in these next several weeks I’m home.” He gave you a genuine smile.

You softened, smiling down at the beautiful Irish man, “… I’m sorry. I know you were busy, I just get worried, is all.”

He stood up, wrapping you in a deep embrace, which you returned, “You have nothing to worry about, little angel. I just hate having to spend so much time away from you, that’s the worst part of the job.”

All was quiet for a while as you basked in the warmth of being in his arms. But after the novelty faded, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind all week.

“So Seamus, why did you tell me to meet you here so late at night,” You spoke, staring up at the man quizzically, “You’ve taken me on some interesting dates before, but coming to my place of occupation so late at night is more than a little odd, even for you.”

He pulled away a bit, planting a large, hard kiss on your lips, “Odd? Wow, what a kind way to describe my affectionate endeavors with you,” he laughed, “But I suppose it is due time to get down to business. Come, little angel, the others are waiting.”

“Wait… others? What do you mean by that?!” You questioned, as he grabbed your hand and led you through the restaurant, eventually ending up in the men’s restroom.

“Seamus,” You wearily questioned, “… Why did you lead me to bathroom?”

He smugly smirked at you over his shoulder, and reached out to the coat hanger directly on his right, tipping it over slightly. You were just about to question that action as well, when a panel in the wall directly across from you slid open, revealing a narrow tunnel.

You pointed incredulously at the opening, “What… is that?”

“That’s the entrance, my dear, to where we need to be headed,” Seamus responded cooly, smug smirk still plastered on his face, “Now, if you’d be so kind as to follow me.”

He began to enter the opening, and you trotted closely behind, heart pounding loudly in your chest, “I’ve worked here for years and had no idea this was here,” you exclaimed, 

“Though I must admit, I did think it rather weird that Thomas wanted a coat hanger in the bathroom. What an awkward place for one, you know? Seamus, where exactly does this lead…”

Your voice trailed off as you reached the top of a staircase which over looked a room rife with Vox gear and propaganda. Boxes of weapons and supplies were strewn about here and there, and long, grand, blood red swatches of fabric clung to the walls and crates. The head of a Comstock statue loomed in the corner, eyes glowing fiercely at you, as you became hyper aware of all the other eyes on you. Though the room was small, it was chock full of people. Your eyes darted around the room, skimming across countless stares. Some of the people you recognized. Laura was in the crowd, along with Marcus and Wiley. You even caught a glimpse of Cindi and Ezekiel. Seamus gently pulled you along, leading you down the stairs till you both were standing in the center of the room across from a red cloaked figure that had their back to you. You fought hard to keep your cool and to not let your nerves get the better of you, but unfortunately it was a battle you were losing.

“So,” The cloaked figure harshly spoke, surprising you with its female tone, “This is her? This is the girl?”

Seamus nodded, “Indeed, this is her,” he stepped behind you, placing his large hand on the small of your back, while giving you a shove towards the figure, “(Name), may I introduce you to Daisy Fitzroy, leader of the Vox.”

“Daisy Fitzroy?!” You exclaimed breathlessly, a shiver running down your spine as, at the mention of her name, the figure spun around, lowering her hood to reveal her hard face.

“The one and only,” She smirked, gliding her way over to you so that her dark, piercing eyes were mere inches from your own, “And your Fink’s girl, I hear?”

You frowned, and shook your head lightly, “No, ma’am, please. I cut all ties with that man long ago.”

She laughed heartily, as if what you said was incredibly funny, and then proceeded to saunter her way slowly around you, her sharp gaze scouring every inch of your body. You wrung your hands nervously, feeling the sweat begin to slither down your forehead. Even though the room was very hot, you couldn’t stop your constant shiver.

“Well,” she spoke loudly, eyes darting from you, to Seamus, “she doesn’t look that special to me. Just another rich white girl living the Columbia dream,” she then swiveled toward the crowd, arms outstretched, “Tell me brothers and sisters, what has this girl done for us? How did she help the Vox cause?”

At first, the crowd was deafeningly quiet, which caused you a slight amount of panic. But then, a rustle in the crowd happened, and Cindi valiantly stepped forward.

“Daisy,” she spoke with conviction, which caused a small smile to form on your lips. Never before had you heard Cindi speak so strongly, it made you happy to see, “(Name) had protected and helped my countless times. From walking me home so I wouldn’t be attacked, to giving me a silver eagle or two out of her own pocket to help feed my family… Once, she even burned a guy real good whom was giving me trouble.”

You smile grew, as Wiley stepped forward and began to speak, “She’s always helping me prepare food for the Shanty Towns, staying much longer than her shift and risking her livelihood to sneak me all the ingredients I need to prepare the meals. She’s an irreplaceable asset to me, and would be an irreplaceable asset to the Vox.”

“She saved my life,” you swiveled around as Ezekiel stepped forward, a huge smile on his worn face, “The police had caught me, I was staring death in the eyes. This girl, who had no reason whatsoever to go out of her way for a black man, did so without a second thought. She covered for me, and made sure I made it to safety. Without her, I wouldn’t be here right now. She even helped out the Cunningham’s for a long time. Miss Fitzroy, this girl has a heart of gold.”

Your heart swelled with joy, your face illuminating in a happy glow, when Seamus’ voice spoke out clearly behind you, “She also has access to a very valuable asset.”

Your blood ran cold at Seamus’ words and you turned your attention completely to him. What was he doing?! Did he not promise you that Elizabeth would remain a total secret? You clenched your hands tightly, your breaths becoming deep and uneven. He wouldn’t betray your trust so easily… would he?

Daisy glanced over at you, wide eyed, her interests clearly peaked, “Oh, does she now? And what asset would that be?”

You stared hard at the ground, your nerves a complete wreck. Every eye and ear in the building was completely trained on you, eager to hear what you had to say next. You quietly parted your lips, desperately trying to come up with something, anything, to say to these people that would keep Elizabeth out of it. You continued to struggle desperately, when Seamus’ voice responded to the crowd.

“It’s Songbird,” He called, “My gal here has access to none other than Columbia’s freak winged protector himself!”

Gasps and murmured whispers shot through the crowd as your eyes shot menacingly to Seamus. True, he didn’t tell them about Elizabeth, but letting them know about Songbird was almost just as bad.

“Really now,” Daisy questioned, an air of heavy disbelief in her voice, “And how can that possibly be? I thought Songbird only answered to Comstock? I was under the impression that his only interest is protecting the lamb?”

Feeling her judging glare on you, you began to stutter a response, “While both those things ARE true, I… I, um… Well, I found a whistle one day when I was girl… I found it in Fink’s office, buried deep in one of his closets, long forgotten. I took it, tried it out, and discovered that it summoned him,” more gasps from the crowd erupted, and as you glanced around, you could see your story was delighting the crowd. You were just happy they were buying it, “But sadly, that’s all it does. It doesn’t really order him around or anything… It just sort of brings him to you.”

Daisy kept her judging eyes trained on you for quite some time before a small smirk crept on her lips, “Well, isn’t that interesting? If we can call him to us, we can possibly learn to control him… And wouldn’t that be something?”

You let out a small, relieved, sigh when you noticed that her smirk suddenly changed to a frown, her expression taking a dark twist. Your small moment of peace dashed as her next question took you completely off guard, “… Do you remember, years ago, when you were just a child… there was a little colored girl you met on the boardwalk. You gave her a present, do you remember?”

Your eyes grew wide with disbelief. How could Daisy possibly know about that day?

“Of course I remember,” you quietly stated, remembering clear as day the painful outcome of that encounter, “how could I ever forget that little girl’s face? That moment haunts me to this day.”

Daisy nodded, “That girl was my little sister.”

You gasped loudly, your hand flying up to your mouth in hopes to stifle your surprise. Daisy Fitzroy… That child was her family?

“Seamus, hand me that bucket,” Daisy called over her shoulder, her fierce eyes not leaving yours for a second. Seamus did as he was told, and hauled the bucket her way, planting it squarely at her feet. With one foot, she gracefully kicked off the lid, and plunged her hand deep within, pulling it out slowly covered in a vibrant red dye.

She made her way over to you, her steps quick, heavy and with purpose, leaving you with little time to react as she violent ripped the top of your dress open, exposing the top of your chest and breasts to the crowd. A deep shade of crimson passed over your cheeks as Daisy swiftly took her dyed hand, placing it squarely on your chest, right over your heart, with a rough slap.

She held her hand in place, the dye feeling hot and heavy on your flesh, as her other hand wrapped around you gruffly, pulling you towards her so that her mouth was directly by your ear, “I’m not doing this because I trust you,” She violently whispered, the emotion raw in her voice, “nor am I doing this because Seamus convinced me. I’m doing this for my little sister, the little girl who didn’t even get a chance to live. I’m doing it because she’d want me to… She’d want me to let the girl who made her last few moments in this hell bearable a formal member of this fight.” 

With that she shoved off of you, causing you to stumble. Before you could fall however, she grabbed your left hand, raising it high in the air along with her own, “Brothers and sister, welcome your newest member,” She called, the group erupting into a whoop of guttural yells and clicks, clapping and hollering, “From this day forward, (Name) is one of us. She is part of the fight. She is Vox.”

She released your hand, and immediately a swarm of people were on you; hugging you, shaking your hand, patting your back, ruffling your hair. You smiled at them weakly, not sure what to make of all this. It was never your goal to join to Vox… In fact, you had no idea you’d ever be a member, especially not tonight. In all honest truth, you weren’t even sure this was what you wanted at all. Your eyes glanced up to see Seamus across the room, beaming proudly and defiantly at you. You turned your head away. It would take a while not to be upset at him after this little surprise.

“Hey, why don’t we fire up some music to congratulate our newest sister,” a voice you had never heard before called from the crowd, “Seamus, start us up!”

On cue, Seamus made his way over to a guitar that had been propped up against the wall. He took it over to where Daisy was standing, took a seat, and started strumming away; playing a song you had never heard before. Apparently, you were alone in this, as everyone instantly hushed up, ending their conversations and chit chat. The crowd started clapping and stomping interchangeably, causing a lively buzz to fill up the room. Daisy started to sing.

Jimmy's in the back with a pocket of high  
If you listen close  
You can hear him cry  
Oh, Lord, heaven knows  
We belong way down below  
Sing it

Upon her request, every voice (save for your own) in the room, joined in, boisterously repeating their leader in singing the chorus. 

Oh, Lord, heaven knows  
We belong way down below  
Way down below, way down below  
Judy's in the front seat picking up trash  
Living on the dole  
Gotta make that cash  
Won't be pretty  
Won't be sweet  
She's just sittin' here on her feet  
Sing it  
Oh, Lord, heaven knows  
We belong way down below  
Go  
Oh, Lord, heaven knows  
We belong way down below

Pretty soon, everyone was letting go. Everyone was singing, hollering, dancing, and causing a ruckus. You worried that you were all being too loud, that a cop would hear you any second and arrest everyone they found. You calmed yourself by repeating over and over in your head that if that were the case, they wouldn’t be doing it.

You let your eyes wander over to Seamus. It seemed like in all the hectic energy of the crowd, he was the calmness, the center of the storm. You noted how beautiful he looked; hair immaculate, dressed nicely, a huge, gleaming smile adorning his handsome face, as he added his voice along to the song.

… But then you noticed where his gaze fell. His eyes were pointedly on Daisy, and you began to realize that his happiness was for her. Glancing up at the girl, she was giving him the same look back, their eyes never wavering from each other’s gaze. You shook your head lightly, ‘What am I thinking! Seamus doesn’t have feelings for Daisy. If he did, what reason would he have for being with me? Why would he declare that I was ‘his gal’ so openly in front of her? No, he just admires and respects her, that’s it,’ But just as the thought crossed your mind, you witnessed Daisy place her hand gingerly on Seamus’ shoulder, giving it a gentle, familiar rub, causing his smile to grow even brighter, ‘… right?’

One, two, three and four  
The devil's knocking at your door  
Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie  
Start your life with your head held high  
Now you're on your knees  
With your head hung low  
Big man tells you where to go  
Tell 'em it's good  
Tell 'em okay  
Don't do a goddamn thing they say

The atmosphere of the room was starting to get to you. Too many people moving, making noise, bumping into your boisterously. The room started to feel like it was simultaneously spinning and crashing in on you. You pushed your way through a wall of people so that you were back at the stairs, and set yourself down. Your hand gripped at your chest, feeling the moistness of Daisy’s still wet hand print. Staring down at it, it all seemed wrong. It was too bright, too big, and too conspicuous. It represented a choice you did not make. You could feel it burning, as if you had been branded with a cattle rod. Though you knew it would eventually wash off, you also knew the feeling of Daisy pressing into you would never go away. You could feel it in your bones, this night would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Way down below, way down below  
Way down below, way down below

~

The year was 1912. At this point, you had been an ‘official’ member of the Vox for a solid year. Luckily for you, that apparently didn’t require much work. You went to several meeting here and there, but other than that, your life stayed very much the same. Every now and again, Seamus would bring up Elizabeth, urging you to trick her into helping the Vox cause, or trying to get you to use her in some way to benefit the Vox. Those conversations were rare, however, seeing as they always made you infuriated, and ended in huge fights between the two of you that would result in several weeks of silent treatment on your end.

But still, you stayed with him. Even at his worst, Seamus knew just the right things to say and do to smooth things over between the two of you, no matter how bad it got. Also, his passion for helping the lower class of Columbia was a trait you fund incredibly admirable and appealing, and you figured any man willing to dedicate his life into helping people who needed it must truly be worth something. So, you accepted him and all of his flaws. Besides, even with all the heated arguments, occasional flirtatious behavior, and possessiveness of you, you knew that he cared for you, even if his ways of showing it weren’t always the best. And in turn, you grew to be quite fond of him back. Besides, you were lucky to find anyone at all to fall in love with you in Columbia, let alone Seamus. You decided long ago that all those negative feelings telling you he wasn’t the one were a mere fluke; a product of being overly nervous about first love.

“You need to aim down further,” he called behind you “Christ, if you shoot like that, the bullet will go right over him!”

You sighed heavily, lowering the carbine, “Look I’m not new to this! I know what I’m doing. Just lay off a bit, please?”

It was true. Ever since you had joined the Vox, Seamus set to work teaching you how to use various guns. Whenever he wasn’t preoccupied, he’d take you to a homemade range he had set up and forced you to practice. You continually argued that you would help however you could, but you were adamantly against fighting if it meant you had to kill anyone (you were not interested in being a soldier). He’d always retort the guns were for your own protection, that you needed to have basic knowledge in case something went down and he wasn’t around. After some persuasion, you agreed to learn.

As time passed, you became better and better at your marksmanship, particularly when it came to shooting with a carbine or machine gun. And honestly, you started to enjoy shooting. The feeling of pulling the trigger reaffirmed your inner strength, and knowing that you had the power to protect yourself if needed put your mind at ease. Though you by far weren’t a master of guns, you figured maybe if you practiced hard enough one day, you could surprise the whole Vox with your skill, convince them to help you bust out Elizabeth, and escape to a better tomorrow… Of course, that was a really big maybe.

“Yeah, I can tell that,” Seamus sarcastically joked as you fired off a shot, missing your mark completely, “You know, it’s not too late to pick up using Vigor’s. They seem to be pretty easy to use AND you’d be helping out your old man’s business!”

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled, annoyed, “Dammit! I thought I’d hit it for sure that time!”

Seamus sighed, and made his way over to you, gently placing his arms around you so that he was holding your arms which were holding the gun, “Here, let me help,” you obeyed as he gently repositioned your arms, “There. You want to make sure your gun is lined up just this way. If you move around too much, you won’t hit your mark. Now steady,” he slowly backed away, “Alright, pull!”

You did, landing you a mark square in the target’s head.

“Atta girl!” He exclaimed, patting your back roughly while kissing you sloppily on the cheek, “Now you got it,” he then glanced down at you, noticing the forlorn expression upon your face, “Hey now, what’s the matter?”

You exhaled loudly, “It’s just… I’ve been having that damn dream again.”

“You mean the dream with the boat and the lighthouse?” Seamus questioned, taking the gun from your hands as he prepared to clean it up for the day.

“Yeah…” You whispered, your eyes focusing off into the distance, “I’ve been having it every night, recently. And every night, it gets more and more intense,” you focused your attention back to Seamus, “Like last night. I got so close I almost felt like I could reach out and grab on to his hand… But oddly enough, I still couldn’t make out what the guy looked like. He was just a silhouette.”

“Hey now,” Seamus spoke, sauntering over to you, “Don’t get to friendly with that dream guy, ya here. You’re starting to make me quite jealous with all the nights you spend thinking of him.” He wrapped his arms around your waist protectively, swaying you back and forth.

You laughed lightly, standing on your tip toes to give him a light peck on the nose, “Oh calm down, mister hot stuff, the only dream man I need in my life is you,” He smiled smugly at this, and you continued, “I just find it weird, is all. I mean, I’ve been having this dream since childhood, and now I’m 23 and it still haunts me…”

“I’m sure it’s no big deal,” Seamus cooly responded, pulling away from you while slinging the carbine over his shoulder, “People have repetitive dreams all the time that usually mean little stuff that doesn’t matter in the least. Anyway, it’s getting pretty late love, we should probably head back,” he gave you a slight nudge, “Tomorrow is the big day, after all.”

A deep frown immediately set on your face, “Oh right. How could I forget such a joyous event?”

Seamus laughed, and began to walk away, flicking his head for you to follow. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you trotted after. You supposed it was getting rather late, and it was high time to go home and prepare for tomorrow. You shook your head disdainfully, thinking of all the awful things that lurked in the near future.

Seamus looked back at you, and upon noticing your grimace called out, “Aw, don’t look so glum. I know it’s unpleasant, but it happens every year. You just got to brace yourself for it… You’re ready, right?”

You looked up at him questioningly, “For the 1912 raffle?” your eyes traveled over to your right, eying a group of citizens hanging up some last minute racist propaganda in preparation for the event. You sighed deeply.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

~

A/N: I AM SO HAPPY THIS CHAPTER IS DONE AND PUBLISHED. There you have it, little moth’s!!! I hope you enjoyed it, a lot went down!!!

Some notes…

I had to re-write a lot of this chapter because I kept changing my mind a lot and adding so many things. :P

Ferris wheels scare me a lot (even though I enjoy them), and while playing Infinite my boyfriend commented on how ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING the ferris wheel at Soldiers Field must be… So I had to add it in the story. :P

Liz would have kicked Seamus in the crotch about a billion and a half times if she had access to him. If you are still feeling iffy about him, you probably should be (I’m sorry!).

You are now a part of the Vox! Woo… maybe? But why are they leaving you out of the loop so much? Also, Daisy isn’t really the biggest fan of you… And you aren’t really the biggest fan of her… Oh, and that little girl on the boardwalk was her sister all along! I am actually not really sure when Daisy arrived in Columbia, but based on her Voxophone message, it seems like she was already an adult… But let’s just pretend she’s been there as long as you have, and would have a little baby sis with her. :D

ALSO! Way Down Below by the Pretty Reckless SCREAMS Vox Populi anthem! As soon as I heard it, that’s what I thought, and now whenever it pops up on the radio, I blast it and pretend I am part of the Vox (aw yeah :P)! As soon as I heard it, I knew exactly how I wanted you to go about meeting Daisy for the first time! Hell yeah! >:D

Oh, and Cindi is based off of Cindi Mayweather, Janelle Monae’s alter ego. Because I am in love with her, so that’s that.

Uh oh, here comes the raffle!

And finally… BOOKER COUNT DOWN: NEXT CHAPTER! I AM SO HAPPY I COULD CRY!

As always, thank you so much for the read and any kudos/reviews you may read! You guys keep me going, and I plan to have the next chapter up ASAP! You guys deserve some long awaited Mister Dewitt! LET’S DO THIS.


	15. The 1912 Raffle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware of the False Shepherd!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spoken in nasally side show announcer voice* Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls! You’ve read through 14 chapters, encountered countless perils, fought many a fight, all to lead you to where we are now! With great esteem I finally present to you… *Pulls down curtain to reveal a shittily drawn poster that says chapter 15* CHAPTER FIFTEEN! STARRING NONE ONLY THAN MISTER BOOKER DEWITT HIMSELF! Hurrah! Audience, can I get a round of applause?!
> 
> … But seriously, HERE IT IS. BOOKER’S DEBUT CHAPTER!!! YAY! :DDD I really, from the bottom of my heart, hope that you guys like it. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous… It seems like this is such an important chapter, I just don’t want to let you guys down!!!
> 
> Also, sorry it took a little longer to post. A lot of stuff is going down in my life right now, both good and bad, and truth be told I’ve been pretty down in the dumps lately, which has effected how efficiently I’ve been able to write/edit/publish chapters. :/ But don’t fret! You guys and this fic bring me endless amounts of happiness, so thank you so much for reading this and keeping me going! You guys are all so wonderful, and I cannot thank you enough for all your kind words and encouraging statements! I adore each and every one of you!
> 
> Now, with all that outta the way, let’s get this show on the road! Without further ado, here is Chapter 15! Go meet your man, my lovely readers. ;D
> 
> (Oh, and one more thing, I don’t own Barton Hollow or any of the Civil War’s music. But they are a great band. Woo two song chapters in a row!)

“Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt!”

The out of the blue voice that boomed behind you jarred you, causing your body to give a violent spasm. Where were you? Looking around, you found yourself standing smack in the middle of a tiny, drab room, the likes of which you had never seen before. A heavy cloud of despair hung in the air, mingling with the overwhelming scents of stale alcohol, sweat, and even a hint of blood. In the corner was a single person bed (or really, just a dirty mattress) and in front of you stood a disheveled desk. To your immediate left was a single closed door, and all around the walls the wallpaper was peeling and crumbling off, adding to the litter of empty bottles and food packages scattered on the floor. Even with only the light from the outside illuminating the room, you could tell this room had nothing but depression to offer.

The knocking came again, this time more violently, shaking your core. An intense wave of pain cascaded over you, causing you to grip your stomach in agony while you doubled over in torment. Breath was coming to you in short, painful gasps, and you had to throw your full weight upon the desk in front of you just to be able to stand. Your vision was becoming blurry, and your heart was beating so hard in your chest that it was physically causing you pain. You had hurt like this before; it was intensely similar to the pain you felt when you first passed through the tear to get to Columbia. But this time it was far, far worse. As you were struggling with the pain, a familiar wet sensation began to cascade from your nostrils, and after a wipe of your nose, your hand came back smeared with deep crimson.

You were not supposed to be here.

Another intense wave of pain washed over your body, causing your legs to buckle. You fell completely over, hitting the ground hard. The world was spinning, and you felt bile snake its way up the back of your throat. You tightly shut your eyes, fighting hard to keep the vomit down, and struggled in vain to stop the pain. You whimpered; when would this horrible sensation end?!

“Mr. Dewitt… MR. DEWITT!”

Dewitt? You were sure you had never heard that name before, yet somewhere deep inside of you, a feeling stirred. A sense of bittersweet nostalgia kicked inside of you, adding to the already unbearable pain you were going through. 

A shrill cry then pierced the air. It was a baby’s cry, small and helpless. From what you could make of it, the cry was coming through the closed door behind you. Something instinctual inside of you was telling you to go to the child, to comfort her. But your body lay listless on the cold dirty ground, still paralyzed in pain. Tears began to slip from your eyes when another voice was added to the mixture of knocking and crying.

“There, there, Anna,” a man’s deep voice croaked. Though he sounded surprisingly soothing, it still didn’t mask the raw misery in his voice. He sounded so defeated, so lost, that just hearing him caused your heart to shatter.

“Mr. Dewitt. Bring us the girl, wipe away the debt!”

Again that horrendous voice boomed. You wished desperately that you could go out there and throttle whoever was speaking, but even the tiniest movements caused you unspeakable agony.

A heavy, broken sigh came from the room behind the closed door, as the babies cries were finally hushed, replaced with content chirps and coos, “I’m sorry Anna… Goddamit, I am so sorry…” You could tell the man was crying, too.

And then there was the sharp sound a chair grating across the floor, followed by slow, heavy footsteps. Your breathing slowed, and though it hurt wickedly, you wriggled yourself around so that you could see who this man was. 

However, it wasn’t just that you wanted to see the man, but you were also driven by a strong urge inside of you, stronger than any urge you had ever felt. You HAD to confront this man. Whatever he was thinking about doing… You had to end it.

The footsteps stopped at the door, and you watched as the knob turned painfully slow. The knocks from outside where coming incessantly now, louder and louder with each passing second.

THUNK, THUNK, THUNK, THUNK, THUNK.

~

You violently shuddered awake to the sound of someone knocking at your own door. Discombobulated, your head whipped from side to side, taking in your surroundings. You were out of that horrid dream room, and the pain was gone. No ghastly voice was screaming things you didn’t understand, and no one except yourself was in your small apartment. You sighed heavily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

It was all just a dream. A horrible, horrible dream.

The knocking came again, and you sighed grumpily. You glanced over at your desk, your eyes befalling your calendar and clock.

7 am, July 6th, 1912.

The knocking continued, this time louder and more persistent. You figured that it had to be Seamus, though you were confused as to why he was here. You agreed the other day to meet at the flower shop, so why had he chosen to pick you up instead? And why so early, he wasn’t known to be a morning person in the least.

You rolled yourself out of bed, and padded your way over to the door, tussling your hair a bit in hopes of making yourself a bit more presentable.

“Seamus, what are you doing here so early,” you questioned groggily, as your hands unbolted the lock on your door, proceeding to pull it open, “I thought we had agreed to-Oh.”  
You stopped mid-sentence when none other than Jeremiah Fink stood opposite you, his hand raised to give another sharp knock. Your eyes darted over him, causing you to frown deeply. He sure was dressed fancifully for a man about to host a slaughter fest.

“What are you doing here?” You curtly called, as you crossed your arms across your chest defiantly.

Jeremiah smirked, “It’s a pleasure to see you too, (Name). You are looking,” He gave you a once over, a look of disgust passing over his features, “Well… About as good as you can, I suppose.”

“I said what are you doing here,” you spoke again, this time much more commanding, “why are you at my house at all, let alone so early in the morning?”

“House?” Jeremiah laughed, glancing behind you into your apartment, “Child, please. ‘Glorified shack’ is a much more suitable term for your living arrangements-“

“WHY ARE YOU HERE,” You boomed, tired of his games. 

Jeremiah’s eyes widened at your outburst, but his face soon slinked back to its default, evil glare, “I’ve come here per your mother’s request. Why else would I lower myself to visiting you in this dump,” He spat.

“…And what does she want? Why couldn’t she just visit herself?” You had to admit, your interest was piqued. You hadn’t talked to your mother in a long time, mainly because the every time you would talk to her she would frantically try to make you one of Comstock’s loyal puppets, and explain to you constantly how you were living in sin; a sin that only the “father” could wash away. It broke your heart and disgusted you to see her this way, so you decided to stop visiting her long ago. This was the first time she’s tried to reach out to YOU, however, and you were very interested in wondering why.

Fink sighed, stroking his facial hair, “Please , today is the Raffle, the most important day of the year for nearly every citizen in Columbia, ESPECIALLY Comstock’s follows. As if you’d be able to tear her away from that alter today! And what other news would she have other than words from The Prophet himself,” in his voice, you thought you could sense a twinge of pain, like he yearned for his love back. But that quickly diminished as he continued speaking, “She has been bugging me for over a month to warn you about the ‘False Shepherd’.”

“False Shepherd?” You recited quietly. Yes, the one who is supposedly supposed to ‘lead the lamb astray’. For the past several weeks leading up to the raffle, officials had been busy at work hanging their posters warning of him, and the Prophet has made countless sermons to all the citizens of Columbia warning of his evil deceitful ways, and telling people to be on the lookout for any warning signs or suspicious behavior. Of course, it was all hysterical nonsense, and you didn’t believe it for a second. You were one of the few people in Columbia who didn’t whole heartedly hang on every word from Comstock’s mouth… Besides, who in the world could even reach Elizabeth to ‘lead her astray’? Songbird would surely tear them apart. It was all just so ridiculous.

“Yes, apparently on top of corrupting The Lamb, he also is going to try and swing by for you, as well,” Fink spoke, staring judgingly into your eyes, “At least, that is what The Prophet warned.”

You frowned, shaking your head, “That’s nonsense! Does she honestly believe some man is going to show up and spirit Elizabeth and I away for some nefarious purpose? It’s just absurd!”

Fink smirked, “For once in my life, I agree with you girl. But none the less, she’ll believe whatever Comstock tells her, and she has been in an adamant tizzy that I pass this message along to you ‘before it’s too late.’”

“Well, I got the message,” You glared at him, “now you can leave.”

“Gladly,” he said, turning on his heel to exit. As he was walking away he called over his shoulder to you jovially and loud, “Have a splendid raffle, daughter of mine! I know I certainly will!”

You slammed the door, pressing your back against it firmly while closing your eyes, ‘That was NOT how I wanted this morning to start,’ You thought with a sigh, ‘False shepherd, huh? Humph, I almost wish there really WAS a man to come take us away, no matter how dastardly he may be…’

Your thoughts were interrupted again by another knock on your door, this one much too soft and polite to be from Fink. You turned around, opening the door a crack to see Edith staring back at you. Upon seeing her, you opened the door all the way to greet your neighbor.

“Hello,” She flashed you a halfhearted smirk, “I hope you aren’t mad about me coming over so early, but I just heard you and your visitor conversing out in the hall, and I came to check and make sure you are alright,” her face turned deeply concerned, “my God, (Name), you are bleeding! That bastard Fink didn’t strike you, did he?”

“What,” you questioned, reaching your hand up to feel the blood fall from your nose, “Oh no, I’m OK! Sometimes I just get nose bleeds from the elevation, nothing to be worried about,” You smiled at your friend, “And I’m not mad at all. In fact, thank you for checking up on me. It was quite a shock to open my door this morning and find that oaf right outside to greet me.”

Edith laughed, “I can only imagine! He has to be the worst alarm clock in the world, I feel sorry for the poor souls in Finkton,” you gave a small chuckle, before she continues,  
“Listen, Clarissa already left for the flower shop this morning. I figured if you didn’t have plans, maybe you’d like to come with me and join us for the day? Working at the shop would keep you away from all the annoying hub bub of today’s events, and you’d be far away from the Raffle. What do you say?”

You smiled at her, “I’d love to help you ladies out, but I already have plans for the day. You see, Seamus and I are spending the day together… Actually, we are supposed to meet up at your shop.”

“Oh,” Edith sighed, “You are still dating him, huh?“ she frowned, a twinge of disappointment in her voice as she lightly shook her head, “I thought he was still gone on a ‘business trip’, you know, probably one with lots of pretty girls to flirt with.”

You frowned, “Edith please, I know he’s rough around the edges, but when you get to know him he really is a great guy… And besides, he really was on business trip! Thomas confirmed it!”

Edith waved her hand in the air, “Whatever you say, (Name). I just hate to see a wonderful girl get hurt by the likes of him.”

“Don’t worry, I would never let that happen,” Though you said it with conviction, you couldn’t stop a worried feeling that Edith’s concern may be spot on from bubbling up in your chest. You smiled to dispel it.

Edith smiled back, “Well, that’s good to hear, I suppose. Why don’t you get ready for the day, and then come over when you are ready to go? We’ll head there together.”

You nodded, “Give me a bit and I’ll be right over.”

~

After two and a half hours, you had finally made it to the flower stand.

“Has it finally stopped,” Edith called over her shoulder to you.

“Yeah… I think so,” You responded tentatively, still holding the bloodied up hanky close to your nose just in case. Shortly after you ended your talk with Edith and headed back inside your apartment, you nose started to violently gush blood. Off and on you had to fight with your nose, using the small gaps of time you had in-between bleeding’s to prepare yourself for the day. Needless to say, it took you quite a while to prepare yourself for the day.

You let your hand fall to your side as you got closer and closer to the stand, finally feeling comfortably enough that the blood had stopped for good, “I just don’t get it… I mean, I had nose bleeds really bad when I first came to Columbia, but after a few years, they died down considerably. I don’t think I’ve even had one within the past year, let alone a violent one like the one this morning…,” you glanced down at the bloody rag in your hand, perplexed, “ I wonder why that happened all of a sudden.”

You looked up at Edith to see her shrug her shoulders, “Who knows, kiddo. Maybe it’s all your mounting excitement for the Raffle,” she sneered, causing you to playfully slap her,  
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Though, I really am thankful it stopped. For a while there I was really concerned you’d pass out and miss all the fun today.”

“Not on my life would I miss today.” You responded, as a large gust of wind picked, tossing your outfit and hair about wildly, and causing quite a few of the flower displays to topple over. 

There was a scent on the wind that you couldn’t quite place, something very familiar, yet scarily foreign at the same time. You paused for a moment upon inhaling it, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. It excited you.

“Oh no,” you heard Clarissa huff, as you looked up to see her rush from inside the flower shop to the fallen bouquet’s, “Seamus, come quick! The display we just set up is toppling in the wind!”

“Need some help,” Edith questioned the girl, leaning down to help her pick up the fallen flowers. 

Clarissa’s demeanor brightened as she took notice of you and Edith arriving on the scene, “Edith, (Name)! I’m so glad you two are here… But where have you been? It’s nearly ten ’o’clock, I was expecting you hours ago!”

“I had a little accident,” you spoke, holding up the rag for Clarissa to see, her expression turning quickly horrified, “Oh, don’t worry! It was nothing huge, just a nose bleed!”

“Yeah, a giant, nearly nonstop nose bleed that lasted two hours and drained her of half the blood in her body” Edith sarcastically snorted, “But don’t worry, our (Name) is tough, and somehow she pulled through!”

“Well, never mind that,” Clarissa shook her head, returning to work, “(Name), I’m glad you are OK, but Edith and I are way behind and need to get hustling! The parade it about to happen and after that will come a herd of people all looking to buy flowers and we aren’t even all set up yet!!! We need to hurry and make up for lost time!”

“Where didya want me to put all these Clar,” You heard Seamus’s voice bellow behind you, causing you to turn and find him comedically shimmying through the small door of the shop, arms full of a huge array of all kind of brightly blooming flowers. He looked disgruntled, and a small layer of sweat hung on his brow. His eyes darted up, locking with yours. Surprised at first, he gave you a quick once over with his eyes, a mischievous smile engulfing his face. He whistled sharply, “Well, I must have been a very good boy to deserve this. You look absolutely stunning today, love!”

You smiled brightly. You weren’t known to be particularly vain or full of yourself in the least, but today, you looked good and you knew it. You went out of the way to look your best, dolling yourself up in gorgeous (fav. Color) dress of your own making. You had designed it off the latest fashions you saw line the windows in the Emporia shops, and though it was originally for Elizabeth, you decided in the end to keep it for yourself. That, on top of your hair all done up and just a splash of make-up made you look and feel shinier than a sack of Silver Eagles. Oddly enough, you usually did your best NOT to gussy yourself up for the Raffle, but today… Today just felt different, so you decided to dress differently.

“Do you like it,” you gave a small twirl, “I made it myself… Does it look alright?”

“Look alright? You are the most gorgeous girl in all of Columbia,” he laughed, giving you a small wink, “dress or no dress.”

As a blush illuminated your checks, Edith stormed up to the man, yanking the flower pile from his arms, “Thanks for your help,” she sneered, “I hope you aren’t expecting money in return.”

“Darling, please. The only payment I need is your beautiful, smiling face,” Seamus sneered right back, “I mean, I think I deserve AT LEAST that after picking up your slack.”

She smiled venomously, Seamus again following suit. Just when it seemed they would rip each other’s throats out, Clarissa yanked Edith aside roughly.

“We don’t have time for this,” She whined, “Come on, help me finish setting up! The people will be here any minute!”

She proceeded to get tugged away with a sigh, leaving you and Seamus alone. He sauntered up to you, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist, kissing your forehead with a  
contented smile.

“You really are the loveliest creature in Columbia, you know that?” He whispered, slowly swaying you back and forth.

“Thank you, but I am sure there are much lovelier.” You smiled, returning his loose embrace.

He sighed, pulling away, “Why can’t you ever just accept your complete and total beauty? Honestly, what do I have to do to get you to believe it,” his face twisting into a tell-tale mischievous grin, “I know, let’s take a poll, shall we? HEY YOU THERE, SIR,” he hollered, pointing to a confused man in the distance, “IS THIS GIRL NOT THE LOVLIEST YOU’VE SEEN?”

You shoved him away from the street, further into the confines of the flower shop, your face burning beet red, “Seamus, what is the matter with you?!”

“What,” he chuckled, “you made me do it!”

“Oh, stop it,” though you were incredibly embarrassed, you found yourself chuckling along with him.

You both made your way over to the farthest corner of the flower shop. In all of Columbia, it was one of your most favorite places. It was so close to the bustle of activity, yet enough detached that you could relax and imagine you were someplace else. That, along with the way the tree’s hung over the nook, covering everything in a pleasant shade, and the flowers that surrounded you, leaving the air heavy with a pleasant, sweet aroma, made this little nook an oasis in your eyes.

Seamus casually strolled up to a chair, swooping up his guitar that was leaning against the side as he sat. He crossed his leg, placing the guitar gently in his arms, as he began to pluck out a few notes. You smiled at him, walking around so that you could sit in the chair beside him. As you went to sit down, however, a small, neatly wrapped package sitting in the seat caught you attention.

“What is this,” you asked, gently holding up the package for him to see. He shrugged and continued strumming, but you could see he was fighting a small smile that was forming on his lips.

You smiled, gently unwrapping the package to discover a small jewelry box. You slowly lifted the lid, revealing a gorgeous sterling heart charm, with a small (birth stone) gem in the center. It hung from a delicate silver chain, which you made sure to be gentle with as you took it from the box, dangling it in the light to get a better view.

“Seamus, it’s so lovely,” You lightly spoke, dangling it this way and that, “… But I already told you no big gifts! I know you are tight on money, so you really should-“

He halted your speech by holding up his hand, “(Name), enough. Don’t say stuff like that. I got it for you because I wanted to. And, well…,” He sighed deeply, looking into your eyes, “I know I’m gone a lot for a long amount of time. And I know I’m awful at communicating while I’m gone, and I know you worry. And I know today is generally a really tough day for you… And well, you just deserve it,” He smiled invitingly, “Now put it on, girl! I didn’t spend all that money to see it dangling in your hands!”

You smiled at him warmly, walking up to give him a sweet peck on the cheek, “Thank you, Seamus. It truly is gorgeous,” You clasped the chain around your neck, positioning the charm just right on your chest, “How does it look?”

“Like it was meant to be,” he beamed, starting to strum vigorously on his guitar, “now, how about we get this day’s festivities in motion with a song, shall we?”

You nodded, plopping yourself down next to him in your chair, “Lead the way.”

His strumming turned into actual playing, and as he busted out the first few chords, you instantly recognized the song. It was one you had sung many times before, and you also considered it one of your favorites. You had learned if from your father long ago, and you in turn taught it to Seamus. You hummed along as Seamus started to sing.

I'm a dead man walking here  
But that's the least of all my fears  
Ooh, underneath the water

Your eyes stayed intently on Seamus, as you let the music wash over and consume you. You began to sing along with him.

It's not Alabama clay  
That gives my trembling hands away  
Please forgive me father

Ain't going back to Barton Hollow  
Devil gonna follow me e'er I go  
Won't do me no good washing in the river  
Can't no preacher man save my soul

You closed your eyes, completely immersing yourself in the moment as Seamus’s voice continued in its passionate dance with your own. You felt the wind pick up again, this time more gently, mussing your hair and clothing about playfully. With the wind came that same, strange scent, which made your heart beat quicken. This time, it was much, much stronger. It continued to excite you, but you couldn’t figure out why. Nevertheless, you were to in the moment to let it truly bother you, and the wind was providing you a nice break from the summer heat.

Off in the distance, you heard Clarissa’s sweet voice give her selling spiel to someone, but you didn’t get to hear the reply as you and Seamus continued with your music.

Did that full moon force my hand?  
Or that un marked hundred grand?  
Ooh, underneath the water  
Please forgive me father

The next part was your favorite part, the solo part. Eyes still closed, you straightened yourself in your chair so that you could really give it your all. It was your time to shine.

Miles and miles in my bare feet  
Still can't lay me down to sleep

Your voice was clear, resounding, and strong. You smiled inwardly to yourself, letting the emotions of the music wash over you. Everything would be perfect, except that Seamus’ playing seemed off a bit. You were confused as to way, but considered it may just be because he was focusing on you. You carried on just as strongly.

If I die before I wake  
I know the Lord my soul won't-

The next part was supposed to end the solo, and have you and Seamus’ voices sing together, loud and strong. But as you opened your eyes back again to the world, you felt as if the whole world had screeched to a stop. All the breath and words quickly rushed from your body, leaving you as rigid as a stone statue.

Your eyes were instantly locked onto a set of light, almost translucent looking, green eyes. Your first thought was that they were the most beautiful you’d ever seen. Upon further inspection, you saw they belonged to a man; tall, sturdy, and gruff looking, but also very handsome. He was dressed nicely, albeit a little sloppily, and his chestnut colored hair swooped casually to the side in a carefree manner, the wind gently tousling it about. His finely defined facial features were stern, his eyebrows furrowing in a fierce concentration as his gaze never wavered from your being. Despite his all-around rough looking exterior package, his eyes shone with a surprising kindness, and what you thought seemed to be a twinge of sadness. Your heart began to beat faster and faster the more you stared at him, but despite that, you also felt surprisingly calm in his presence. A vast range of emotions coursed fluidly through your body, confusing you greatly as to exactly what you were feeling. Just who was this man? How could he ignite such reactions within you, just by looking at you?

Well, whoever he was, he was just as entranced by you as you were by him.

KEEP WALKING, AND RUNNING, AND RUNNING FOR MILES

Seamus’ violent singing cut you out of your haze. Your eyes quickly tore away from the man and shifted over to the person you were supposed to be singing with. As you turned to look at him, you found his posture had changed from relaxed to alert, his eyes shooting malicious daggers at the man in front of him, his playing and singing reflecting his current mood. When he saw you turn to look him, he shot you a warning look. The butterflies in your stomach immediately disbanded, followed by your mysterious feelings of elation. They were replaced by heaviness in your chest and a wave of nervousness. You were hyper aware of everything you were doing, and hyper aware of both men’s eyes on you. It made you incredibly uncomfortable. You averted your eyes from both of them, focusing your attention down at your trembling hands instead.

You opened your mouth to sing the end part of the song with Seamus, your voice this time coming out much softer, and rather weak.

Ain't going back to Barton Hollow  
Devil gonna follow me e'er I go  
Won't do me no good washing in the river  
Can't no preacher man save my soul

As soon as he strummed the last note, Seamus shoved his guitar aside, setting it down with a rough thunk on the ground. You could feel anger radiating in sickening waves off of him.

“Can I help you, buddy?” He roughly questioned, his body slumping just the right way in his chair that made you feel like he may just get up and sock this poor guy at any second. Frankly, Seamus’ current attitude was scaring you, it reminded you too much of how he treated you back when you first met.

“Hm?” the stranger responded. Though you still didn’t look at him, you could tell he was very much distracted by something. You couldn’t help but wonder if the distraction was you.

“You heard me,” Seamus nearly growled, “Is there a reason you’re just standing there gawking at us like we are some kind of circus act, or is this just how you treat every stranger you pass by?”

Anger flared up inside of you at Seamus’ words. How rude of him to say such things! You were about to scold him, when the stranger’s voice spoke in your place.

“Oh, forgive me, that wasn’t my intention,” his voice stated levelly, “I was just passing through and your music caught my ear. I thought I’d come a little closer to get a better listen, is all.” You found the man’s voice was much like his exterior, rough, deep, and undeniably masculine. But there was also an air of genuine compassion to it. You enjoyed his voice, the way it reverberated around you, how it sounded in your ears. You found yourself wanting him to talk more.

“Well, now that you heard us play,” Seamus continued, his voice keeping its harsh edge, “you can continue on your way.”

“Suppose I can,” the man sighed, “Thanks for the show, you play well,” you could feel him come closer to you, which finally drew your gaze back to him. Your eyes caught his just as he had leaned between you and Seamus, obscuring the Irish man from your view. The strange man was so painfully close that all you had to do was raise and hand and you’d be touching him, and as you lifted your eyes to his face, you could see several small scars splayed across his skin like freckles. You inhaled, your breath hitching in your throat.  
You knew it seemed crazy, but this man smelled exactly like the scent carried on the wind. 

He dropped a few silver eagles on the table between you and Seamus, and stood back up, his eyes staying squarely on yours, “And if I may say so, your voice is beautiful miss. One of the best I’ve heard.”

You quickly darted your eyes away, and you were blushing so intensely you felt as if your whole body was turning crimson, not just your face. “Thank you… That’s very kind.” You whispered, and then your voice fell silent. You were too nervous to speak any further.

With a nod and a small, nearly unnoticeable smirk, the man was on his way. You watched his broad back retreat further and further until he was completely out of sight. Your body shuddered as you released a deep breath you felt you had been holding for hours.

“Christ, you can stop gawking anytime now! He wasn’t even that great!”

Seamus’ irritated voice brought you back to your senses. You turned your head to him, finding him posed with his arms crossed, a grumpy expression lingering on his face, his foot tapping agitatedly against the ground. He looked very much like a small child whose parent just told him he couldn’t get a toy he wanted.

“I wasn’t gawking,” you retorted, trying to fight back the blush on your face, “he just… I don’t know. I just feel like I know that man from somewhere… He seemed so familiar.”

Seamus scoffed, “Familiar? As in a ‘secret rendezvous while I’m away’ kind of way,” he folded his arms tighter across his chest, “and by the way, your nose is bleeding again.” 

“Dammit,” you cursed, dabbing your nose with a hankie from your pocket to see that Seamus was indeed right. You sighed angrily, “You need to stop it right there,” you responded sternly, “You know damn well you are the only man in my life and I’d appreciate it if you’d cut the accusations and childishness right now. Jesus Seamus, sometimes I feel like I’m dealing with a ten year old when I talk to you,” you sighed heavily, also crossing your arms across your chest, “And like you have room to talk, you eye every pretty girl we pass and I never so much as say a word! I find it kind of ridiculous that you can do that, but I’m not even allowed to look at another man without having suspicion cast upon me! And by the way, he was giving BOTH of us compliments, and you responded INCREDIBLY rudely, for Pete’s sake!”

A heavy silence permeated your surroundings for a while as you focused your attention away from Seamus. If anyone knew how to get under your skin and press your buttons, it was him.

“Jesus… I’m sorry, (Name)” at the sound of his voice, you glanced back over to him, watching intently to hear what he had to say next, “You are right, I was acting childish… I just get really worried, I guess… irrationally worried that I’ll lose the best thing in my life. I don’t think I could live with that, you know?”

You expression lightened a bit as you responded, “Seamus, that is ridiculous. You know you have nothing to worry about. No one is going to steal me away, and you don’t have to worry about me leaving… Well, unless Elizabeth and I can hitch another ride out of this dump.” You finished with a playful smile and wink, “Then I’m gone.”

Seamus smiled back as he stood up, sauntering his way over to you, “Well, lucky for you the Vox shall rise up and prove to be just the ticket to rescue a couple ‘a fair maidens from this ‘dump’, and since I’m pretty much one of the Vox’s main guys, I think you’d better stick around with me,” he held out his hand for you to take, giving you a playful wink in return, “Now, if you are willing to spend some time with an incredibly eligible bachelor such as myself, I suggest we leave this nook behind and go out on this fine ‘raffle day’ to see what the bowels of this floating utopia has to offer a pair of beautiful misfits such as ourselves.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet, “Willing and eager, mister eligible bachelor. If anything can be said for you, it’s that you sure no how to make a heck of an argument.”

~

The next few hours flew past rather pleasantly. Seamus and you had as leisurely of a day as possible while staying as far away from the hub bub of the Raffle as you both could. This didn’t stop him from dragging you around to all the sites and marvels of the festival, making derogatory comments as you passed by the people playing anti-vox games, and even coercing you at one point to go through the ‘Labyrinth Of Love’ with him. Before you knew it, it had become rather late in the afternoon.

“See, I told you it’d be fun!” He beamed at you as you strolled peacefully hand and hand along the beach of Battleship bay.

“It was fun, but it still made me a little freaked out. Mazes like that always have. You always feel so trapped when you are inside them.” You responded.

“But it was a love maze, how could that ever be scary? What were you nervous about? Being trapped in it forever with me?”

“Exactly, that’s my greatest fear! Getting stuck with a big, scary Vox man with no way out? How scary!” You laughingly joked, giving him a small kiss on the cheek.

He smiled, “Well, if that really is one of your greatest fears, then I guess…” His voice trailed off, and his face took a serious turn as he looked off hard into the distance. You followed his gaze to see that it met a rather shifty looking Bay worker motioning discreetly for Seamus to come over to him. There was no doubt in your mind that this man was part of the Vox.

“Wait here a moment, love,” Seamus ordered you, before jogging off to the man, joining him in the shadows for a discussion. 

You were way too far away to hear or see the conversation, so you patiently waited for Seamus to come back. You watched children play in the water, and men flirt with women. You eaves dropped on all sorts of conversations, from the scandalous tale of a lady who was dating several much older men at once, to the mundane droning of a grandmother yelping at her grandchildren to stop splashing her. In the midst of all the talking, one conversation caught your ear.

“Did you hear,” a young man nearby spoke clearly to his group of friends, “that the False Shepherd has made it to Columbia?”

Your body went motionless and cold, as you tuned in your ears to listen harder.

“Nonsense,” A young woman’s voice called, “The False Shepherd? Here? Please, if that foul creature did show up here, do you think we’d all be lounging here right now, safe and happy? No, The Prophet would definitely issue some kind of warning to keep us in our houses and out of harm’s way!”

“But it’s true,” The man spoke again, sounding desperate, “My friend was at the raffle, and he said he saw the man take down DOZENS of police with his bare hands!”

The woman sighed grumpily, “Amos, the raffle only happened a few hours ago, how could you have possibly heard that news so quickly when you haven’t even been near where the Raffle has taken place all day?”

“But,” He began to retort, but was promptly cut off.

“But nothing! You will stop saying such slanderous, heinous, ridiculous things this instant or I will take us both back home for the rest of the day while everyone else gets to have fun!”

“… Fine.” The man grumbled, defeated.

“Sorry that took so long, love.”

Seamus’s sudden voice and hands on your hips made you jump, “Geez, you scared me,” You breathed, placing your slightly shaky hand on your heaving chest, “… Who was that man? What were the two of you talking about?”

Seamus sighed, forming a deep frown on his lips. You instantly knew what he would say next.

“Love, I’m sorry, but I have to go. I really wanted to spend the whole day together but… Something popped up. I have some very important matters that Daisy needs me for, and that’s all I can really say about it… Hey now, don’t give me that look!”

He was reacting to the deep frown on your face; a frown radiating a disappointed, sad anger.

“I don’t understand,” you strongly spoke, shaking your head lightly, “This is Vox business, right? Am I not a member of the Vox now? Have I not been for quite some time? What’s the point of forcing me to be a member if I can’t even participate,” You sighed, trying to calm yourself down, “Look, I can see if you don’t want me to come along for safety reasons or whatever, but can’t I at least know what is going on?”

“(Name),” He spoke sternly, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to look into his piercing eyes, “You know that if I could, I would. I’d tell you everything in a heartbeat. But I just… can’t. You are just going to have to accept that,” seeing a much sadder expression form on your face, he gave you a weak smile, followed by a quick peck on the forehead, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

And with that, he scampered off. You watched him with a heavy heart as he made his way back to the man, greeting him again with a large hug and deep laugh. He didn’t even stop to look back at you once as they both left your view entirely.

~

You ended up walking along the boardwalk after that, admiring the beautiful day, and trying the best you could to not let Seamus’ action bother you.

‘I know he holds a lot of responsibility under the Vox, and I get that there will be SOME secrets he has to keep from me… but dammit, EVERYTHING seems to be a secret with him!,’ You frowned, eyes falling to the ground, ‘I guess I’m just really upset he up and left me on today of all days… He knows how much I hate being alone on this day… If only I could see Elizabeth, that’s make things 100 times better,’ the thought of her made happiness start to seep into your body once again, ‘I’ll have quite a day to tell her about next month when I visit. She’ll get a real kick out of hearing about me fumble around blindly in that stupid maze… And I’m sure she’ll be interested in hearing about the man at the flower shop…’

Though you didn’t dare let Seamus know, you couldn’t get the mysterious man off your mind all day, no matter how hard you tried. In Seamus’ company, you felt guilty letting your mind wander to another man so much, but now that you were alone, you let it wander freely.

‘I really for the life of me can’t figure it out. I swear I feel like I’ve seen him before… No, not just seen, I feel like I’ve KNOWN him before. But how could that possibly be? Where did he come from? I’ve been stuck in Columbia most of my life and not once have I ran into him… Well, at least that I remember. Could he have been a patron at the restaurant? No, I would have remembered someone like him, I’m sure,” a light blush befell your checks, ‘Whoever he is… I hope I get to see him again, someday.’  
J  
ust as a small smile dashed across your lips, the sound of Songbird’s piercing cry radiated from the sky, causing your body to freeze and your blood to run cold. Your eyes jolted up to see that quite a group of people had formed farther down the boardwalk, all gawking at something in the distance, all with varying looks of terror and disbelief on their faces. Before you realized it, your legs started carrying you towards the gathering.

‘What is going on,’ your mind worriedly raced as Songbird continued to screech in the distance, ‘What is Songbird fussing so much about? He never makes this much noise when he goes to visit Elizabeth, and for that matter, he usually only brings her supplies when it’s dark. So why is he out right now…? What in God’s name could be happening?! Something is wrong… something is very wrong!’

 

Your legs began to sprint as the people in the audience went from gasping, to screaming. Thoughts of Elizabeth propelled you as pure fear kept building and building inside you. An impossibly large cracking noise sounded in the distance, as your weary body shoved through the crowd to get a better look. What met your eyes was a horror you couldn’t believe.

“ELIZABETH!” A violently desperate scream tore from within you, as tears started to cascade from your eyes. What you were watching… It couldn’t be happening. As the crowd around you continued to cry and carry on, you realized as impossible as it seemed, it was the truth.

Monument tower was crumbling.

~

A/N: THERE IT IS! THERE. IT. IS. Booker Dewitt is finally here, and from this part on, will be a main part of the story!!! I AM SO EXCITED AND HAPPY I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS GOOD LORD SWEET BUTTERY COMSTOCK BABIES WOO HOO!

But, on a sad note, Elizabeth! What is happening, where are you?! Your tower is breaking!!! D: (Spolier alert, she’s OK).

I also like to give a shout out to Seamus for continuing to be a childish butthead in this chapter. Way to go, Seamy. You keep doing you, bro.

Also, sorry about the Fink alarm clock and all the nose bleeds. It’s been quite a day for you, dear reader, and it is only going to get waaaaaaaaaay more intense from here on out!

Anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE READ! I really hope you guys enjoyed it!!! The next chapter I post is going to be a little different, so stay tuned! I love you all, my little moths!


	16. (Side Chapter Two) Welcome To Columbia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt.' That was the deal. The details allude me now... But the details wouldn't change a goddamn thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Mothra here with the next chapter! WOO HOO!
> 
> Honestly, this chapter was NOT supposed to take this long to come out, because well… It’s tiny (I apologize). :( But you know, life happens and sometimes things take a while… Anyway, with that being said, I’d like to inform you that this is the second side chapter, and unlike the others, it is NOT from your point of view. No-sir-ee, this chapter is from Mister Booker Dewitt’s POV and takes place from when he first leaves the temple, through your first interaction!!! Woo!!! I always really like reading chapters from the love interests POV in reader inserts so I thought I’d take a stab at it! ;D I hope you all like it; let me know what you think!!!
> 
> And, as always, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE YOU GIVE THIS STORY! You guys are nothing short of marvelous nuggets of eternal beauty and I’ll have you all think nothing less of yourselves. (◡‿◡✿)
> 
> OK LITTLE MOTHS, GET CHA READ ON!!!

“Shit.” He grumbled violently, shading his eyes from the invasive sunshine that met him just behind the gate. 

Once his eyes adjusted, he was met with quite a remarkable view.

‘So… This is Columbia,’ He thought to himself as his gaze swept over the hustle and bustle of the lively city in the sky, ‘Well… it sure is bright.’

After the platform he stood upon docked he took his first few cautious steps into city. Walking around, things seemed pleasant enough. Men stood around having chipper chats with women, children ran around excitedly, a hot dog vendor shot him a compliment, and several people he passed nodded and said hello. Everything outwardly seemed tame and lovely, but he had been in the business long enough to know that those kinds of places were usually the most dangerous and malicious.

He continued on his way, navigating this way and that. He reached into his pocket, his large hand caressing the notecard advertising “Monument Island” (where he was supposed to find the girl) and the key (which he was to use to release the girl). He sighed heavily to himself, his eyes darting to the many paths that could possibly lead him to the monument. The monument itself seemed large enough in the picture, and if it was printed on a post card he deemed that it must be a pretty important center of attraction, and therefore a place not very difficult to find (hopefully, at least). 

Booker took a moment to glance up at the brilliant sky, losing himself for a moment in thought. Regardless of being in a completely new location with no map or directions, and never having even heard of Columbia (let alone Monument Island), he surprisingly didn’t feel lost in the slightest. Strangely, even with the tower out of sight, the further he went into Columbia, the stronger a very peculiar pulling sensation in his chest grew. It started the moment he landed in that bizarre temple, and only intensified as he went further into the city. He continued the follow the pull, and in doing so, felt more and more confident he was headed the right direction. A small frown made its way to his lips as his heart rate started to quicken. This feeling was making him… excited? But why? Jobs like this ceased to spark any sort of thrill or enjoyment in him long ago, but nevertheless, here he was with heart racing and palms sweating, feeling like a giddy school boy about to ask a gal on a date. He sighed again, and quickened his pace. It was probably that crazy rocket trip mixed with the altitude and all the brightness and hubbub; it was messing with his brain.

His frown deepened. Honestly, he wanted to get this whole ordeal out of the way as soon as he possible.

Booker came to a slow halt as he reached an impressive statue of Comstock standing staunchly near the entrance of the city. It towered above him, keeping a silent, vigilant watch over this majestic utopia. Though he was joined by a small group of people gawking at it, he seemed to be the only one not enjoying it.

‘I’ve only been here a few minutes and I’m already sick of this guy,’ Booker thought to himself, giving a small snort of disapproval, ‘Aw well, the sooner I find the girl, the sooner I get the hell out of here and get my money, simple as that.’

He continued on his way, maneuvering through the vibrant streets of the jubilant city, hoping to hell that this hunch he had been trailing along unwaveringly was in fact leading him in the right direction. He carried on unperturbed and at ease, regardless that nearly anyone or anything he passed could turn into a potential threat at any moment. 

He shook his head, chuckling slightly to himself as he noticed that his usually lumbering heavy steps had acquired a sort of bounce to them, making him seem much more carefree than he actually was, ‘Maybe I actually am excited. Excited about finally getting some damn money in my pocket and it’s just that it’s been so long I’ve forgotten what it felt like. Anyway I can’t let myself get too lax, I gotta stay focused.’

After a few more minutes of walking (and a quite a bit of gawking at the sights of Columbia), he was stopped by a large crowd of people who had gathered at a blocked off section of the roadway. Confused and a little on edge as to what could be going on, a loud voice boomed from a speaker, drawing Booker’s attention to the right.

His eyes landed on a stream of huge, vibrantly painted floats. All buzzing by in a row, one at a time, they depicted the story of Comstock, Columbia, and the ‘Lamb’… The girl he was to rescue. He sighed with agitation as the parade droned on. He didn’t have time to stand around and watch this ridiculousness pass by, especially when the pulling feeling he had been following faithfully was urging him on so violently forward, seeming to come to a head just beyond this threshold. 

After several minutes that felt much longer than they actually were, after all the balloons had floated by, the two hovering platforms reconnected and divider was lifted, allowing   
people to pass throw.

Booker gently pushed through the small crowd, passing by an officer on his way that bid him and the rest of the citizen’s good luck at the ‘Raffle’. 

‘Raffle? Wonder what that’s about,’ He thought in passing, as he started to pick up the pace a bit in an attempt to distance himself from the oncoming rush of people, ‘Either way, doesn’t really matter, it ain’t my concern.’

In the midst of urging forward, he took himself by surprise by halting, his body jilting a little with his leg’s inactivity. The pulling feeling that had been guiding him this whole time… was suddenly gone.

Aggravated, he frowned, reaching his left hand up to muss with his hair a bit, ‘Well, now what? I was so sure I was headed in the right direction… But now, I don’t have a clue. What was with that crazy hunch earlier? Maybe being hurtled up out of the blue into the air really DID mess me up...’

He sighed, letting his hand drop limply back down to his side. He was about to begin heading forward again, when a sound carried on the wind made him hang around for a little longer…

Someone was plucking away at a guitar somewhere nearby, a little roughly, and by no means perfect, but still well enough to make him feel rather nostalgic. A bit of pain sparked in his heart as he listened to the notes, the sound forcing him to remember one of his most hated moments: when he had to sell his own guitar. Long ago it had been his pride and joy …but at his worst, that didn’t stop him from eagerly trading it in for more booze. He grimaced at his memories, and continued to listen to the person play as the strumming grew in ferocity. The song… It seemed like he had heard it somewhere before, but he couldn’t place where or when. A man’s voice began to sing along with the music, his voice an exact match to how he played the guitar. He started to walk towards the music, thinking maybe the correct path was around that way. Following the song, he headed into a little niche that seemed to be taken up by a flower shop and nothing more. As he made this realization, he began to turn back around to search for the route he was actually supposed to take. His feet had only taken a few short steps, however, when his whole body once again froze.

A voice joined in with the man’s singing. It was woman’s voice, to be precise. Booker held completely still, straining his ears to get a better listen. Her voice fluttered through the air, peppering the world around him in a vibrant tune. It was feminine and light, yet also incredibly passionate and just all around… beautiful. Hearing it instantly made his heart beat like a drum in his chest, his whole body breaking out into a nervous sweat despite the cool breeze in the air.

He had to find who was singing. He needed to see that girl.

He shuffled his way back to the flower booth. As he approached, scanning the area for where the music was coming from, a young girl working the stand approached him with a huge, lively smile on her face.

“Would you be interested in some flowers, sir? We’re raising money for the Girls patriotic fund.”

He glanced at her quickly, a polite smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No thanks.”

She smiled brightly back at him despite the decline, “You’d look dashing with one in your lapel, come back if you change your mind?”

Booker gave her a small wave, turning around so that he could continue his search, when his eyes happened to glance to the side, finally catching a glimpse of who he had been looking for.

It was too far away and darkened by the shade to make her out clearly, but the music was definitely flowing from that direction, and as his eyes locked on to her his stomach began to tighten. Before he knew it, he had scooted past the flower girl, his legs carrying him in a beeline to his musical girl.

He approached her slowly, not wishing to disturb this moment of hers that she was very clearly enjoying. With each step he took, the better his view of her became. He stopped several feet away, his breath hitching in his dry throat.

There was no denying this girl was lovely, completely and utterly. Young and vibrant, he couldn’t help but think about how much the two of you clashed, for just being in your presence made him feel washed up and worn out. This, however, didn’t dissuade him in the least as he basked in your presence, a wave of indescribable feelings washing over his body, bathing him in a content glow. He stood perfectly still, watching intently your every movement ‘Pretty voice to match a prettier girl. Damn, can she sing.’ His eyes fervently glanced you over quickly, his heart beating so loudly he was beginning to wonder if you might hear it, ‘I’ve never seen anyone like her before…’

His eyes stayed trained on you, as he watched as you repositioned yourself, straightening your body, your face contorting into a very stern expression as you began to sing on your own. Watching you brought lightness to Booker’s heart, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in ages. He felt a smile tug at his features, but fought it back in an effort to not let his guard slip too much. Who exactly was this girl? Why was the simple act of being near her making him so… emotive? He couldn’t comprehend it, but he decided not to fret about it. The only thing he wanted on his mind at this moment was this brilliant mystery woman and her song, nothing more, nothing less. His mission wasn’t so urgent that he couldn’t stop and listen to one sing, right?

As her solo drew to a close, the young girl opened her eyes, her gaze falling in line with his. For a moment, it felt as is the whole world had suddenly come to a standstill. He fell into her gaze, getting pleasantly lost in the surprised shine in her brilliant (eye color) pools. He took this moment to take in the radiance of her… the slight blush on her smooth skin, the sway of her (hair color) locks that seemed to dance in the breeze, and her rose hued lips forming a surprised little pout. She seemed too good to be real.

And then, time became to move again as a jarring voice came to his attention, drawing the girls alluring gaze away from him and to the man seated directly on her left. He also let his eyes fall upon her singing partner, and as they met his he could tell the man was absolutely livid. He was fuming in his seat, ready to strike at any moment. Booker sized him up quickly, coming to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be much of a challenge at all. He watched with hard eyes as the young man turned his head, shooting the girl intense warning glares that seemed to almost completely drain her spirit, causing her to stair pointedly down at her lap, her voice coming out meekly. Seeing this stunning girl wilt to this man-no, boy’s actions really pissed Booker off. In fact, it got under his skin to the point where he himself considered stepping up to this guy, a reaction he did not expect. However, as he returned his gaze to the girl, he focused on keeping his cool, remembering the mission at hand. It was far too soon to be making enemies in this place, especially when he didn’t even particularly know where he was headed.

The song finished, both voices finishing in tense unison. Though he kept his focus trained on you, he heard a violent thud of a guitar hitting the ground, followed by a thick, fuming, Irish accent.

“Can I help you, buddy?”

“Hm?” Was all Booker responded, noting how the girl seemed to be avoiding making eye contact at all cost. He knew it shouldn’t bother him, but he wanted to look into her eyes at least one more time… No, want was too weak of a word. He felt as if he needed to.

“You heard me,” the man growled, as Booker fought harder and harder to not let his temper get the better of him “Is there a reason you’re just standing there gawking at us like we are some kind of circus act, or is this just how you treat every stranger you pass by?”

“Oh forgive me, that wasn’t my intention,” he managed to keep his voice surprisingly level, which he felt rather accomplished by, “I was just passing through and your music caught my ear. I thought I’d come a little closer to get a better listen, is all.”

“Well, now that you heard us play, you can continue on my way.” 

‘Geez, what a nasty little punk,’ Booker thought with a frown, before speaking, “Suppose I can. Thanks for the show, you play well.”

In a few short strides, he made his way over to the table nestled behind the two, dropping a few silver eagles he had found earlier on its surface. ‘Really, she deserves much more than this,’ Booker thought to himself, ‘But this jackass on the other side of me seems the type to take it all and give nothin’ back, and I’ll be damned if I give him anything other than a well-deserved punch. How’d this gal end up with the likes of him anyway, I wonder?’ He let his eyes fall back to you, pleasantly surprised to find that your gaze had been directed back towards him, your eyes pensively glancing into his own.

Not wanting to lose your attention, he spoke, “And if I may say so, your voice is beautiful miss. One of the best I’ve heard.”

Apparently embarrassed by his statement, your eyes shot away from his again and your face started to burn an impressive red. Booker began to feel bad for causing you to feel embarrassed, when a faint thank you from your lips reached his ears. Hearing your voice made him feel as if he was falling under some kind of spell; one that he didn’t necessarily want to break. 

As your eyes met his one final time, he flashed you a small, quick smile, and then decided it was high time to get back to what he had been hired to do. As he began to make his way farther and farther from you, he could feel you watching his every move until he had rounded the corner, and was out of sight.

‘Well… That was unexpected,’ Booker thought to himself with a heavy exhale of breath, ‘I can’t remember the last time seeing a dame made me react that way, or for that matter, if a dame ever has made me react that way. Regardless, I need to stop wasting time and get myself back on track.’

But even as that thought passed his mind, he couldn’t help but keep thinking back to you, sitting in your chair, singing your song… For some reason, that vision was so painfully familiar to him, it left an eerie nostalgic feeling burning in his chest. As much as he kept telling himself it was nothing, the more steps he took away from you, the more wrong everything seemed to feel.

“This is ridiculous, get your head back on straight Dewitt” he grunted, shaking his head lightly as another musical number caught his ears.

“God only knows what I’d be without you~”

He trudged his way up a set of stairs, still desperately trying to shove you out of his cranium. As he reached the top, he was bombarded by a flurry of activity. Carnival games, clowns, children running about, ladies and gentlemen laughing and socializing, people advertising all sorts of odds and end, and… was that a guy floating over in the corner?! This whole place seemed bent on giving him an unending headache.

He sighed, rubbing his stubble ridden chin irritably, “Well, so much for not getting distracted.”

~

A/N: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww! Booker DeBookBook’s got a crush on yooooooooooou!!! *Nudges reader * ;D

Ha ha ha, anyway! I hope you all enjoyed this! I thought it was pretty darn cute myself, and I hope it makes up a little for the lack of Booker in the last chapter. Get excited, because from here on out this lovable little trash pile is going to be in EVERY CHAPTER (pretty much)! HELL YEAH!

… He did kind of end up being OOC in this, didn’t he? But through this whole story planning I kept thinking, “hmmm, but how would Booker be in love?!” The answer: a big ‘ol awkward nerd, probably. So, I hope I capture that in a way that delights you and brings you joy. :D Booker, you cutie patoot! Also, it helps to think in Troy Bakers voice when writing Booker scenes. :P

I LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR READING AND REVIEWING IF YOU CHOOSE TO, AND HANG IN THERE BECAUSE THE NEXT CHAPTER IS ON ITS WAY!!! YAY! :D


	17. Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tower had fallen, but she couldn't have fallen with it. You simply refused to believe that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, Mothra here! Once again, this chapter took longer to come out than expected (I apologize), but instead of dumb things getting in the way it has been happy things like MY BIRTHDAY AND VACATION! WOO HOOOOOO! 
> 
> Yeah, so all that happened/is currently happening. But guys, I gotta tell ya, I am just so excited for this fic!!! I already have so many endings planned out for it (don’t worry though, we are nowhere near the end :P) and even a sequel in mind! I am so pumped up!!! I also have been thinking hard about writing a Bioshock 1 fanfic, with the pairing being AtlasXReader and JackXReader… Would you guys be interested??? I’d have to finish Wrecked before I’d start writing it (yes, I haven’t forgotten you, Winter Soldier story…), but I am working it all out in my head now! I’m also considering a one shot with Robert Lutece as well, though that scares me, because I have never attempted a one shot before… But anywho! Yes! All the excitement! *Action pose*
> 
> As always, thank you guys for being the most awesome and supportive of human beings. I love you all and it is such an honor to have you all as readers! Thank X infinities!!!
> 
> Now carry on with the next chapter!!!

‘I have to do something!!! I have to save Elizabeth!’

Your mind was screaming at you as you broke away from watching the quickly disintegrating tower, your feet carrying you at a pace you never thought you’d be able to go. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, your breath coming in painful ragged breaths. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision so badly that you mowed down several people as you fled the scene. You let none of it slow you down, and until you saw Elizabeth safely in front of you, nothing would stop you.

In your jumbled mess of a mind you were able to work out that the best place to go would firstly be the police station. As you busted into the building, you found yourself amongst a sea of people, all of whom seemed to have the same idea you did. Shouts were coming from all over, people screaming about the falling tower, if they were safe, if the Vox did it, if it was the False Shepherd, where the Songbird went, what Comstock was doing about all this. You didn’t care about any of it, all you cared about was Elizabeth’s safety.

You somehow managed to muscle through the crowd, slamming your hands violently down on the front desk, which caused the flustered officer running the desk (whom had previously been trying in vain to calm the crowd down) to jump.

“Where is Elizabeth?!” you asked exasperatedly, your body shaking with every rasping breath you took, “Is she OK?! Did she make it out in time?!”

“E-excuse me? Elizabeth?” The officer stuttered, looking at you with an utterly baffled expression.

You gritted your teeth angrily, your voice coming out violent and loud, “THE LAMB? I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LAMB?!”

At first the officer looked taken aback, but slowly an angry scowl began to snake onto his face, “Look lady, you need to calm down, alright? We have very little knowledge about what is going on right now, but we are moving as fast as we can and will keep citizens informed as soon as the information-“

Before he could even finish, you were out. It was quite obvious these incompetent people would be no help to you whatsoever. You should have figured as much from the Columbian police force.

You continued on as quickly as you had before, this time in the hopes of finding Comstock himself. If anyone had any idea of the state of Elizabeth, it would most likely be him. At first you sprinted to the Welcome Center temple, but it had been entirely cleared out. Agitated, you proceeded to try and work your way towards Emporia, hoping to possibly find him in Comstock House. Alas, all gondola’s and methods of getting there were blocked and inaccessible.

Becoming increasingly tired and losing more and more hope with each step, you managed to push your weary body onward. Visions of Elizabeth ceaselessly flooded your mind. All of her smiles, her laughs, her tears, her happiness, her pain. Elizabeth was always so vibrantly full of life, even in her darkest moments. That life couldn’t be extinguished… Not so quickly. Not while you were both so young! You hadn’t made it out of Columbia yet! You hadn’t taken her to Paris yet! Your puffy red eyes burned in pain from all the tears, and your body had been pushed so hard you felt it could fall apart any second. 

‘Elizabeth, please be alright,’ you thought desperately, another shuddering sob escaping your lips, ‘Please don’t leave me here alone… I don’t want to live in a world without you… I can’t!’

~

After what seemed like a never ending travel, you had reached your destination.

What remained of the tower loomed in front of you grimly, what was left of it glistening in the setting sun. Your tired eyes traveled up its length, stopping at where the damage began. The statue’s whole top half was gone, as if an angry titan child had slapped it off in a storm of rage. You swallowed hard, your eyes traveling up to where the head used to be. You thought of the library, of all the hours you and Elizabeth spent inside those walls dreaming and reading… All of it was gone now, simply vanished without a trace. Your heart began pounding in your chest as you imagined Elizabeth sitting in her library, lazily flipping through one of her many books, a content smile upon her lips. Then suddenly, a rumble followed by a loud crack, and Elizabeth jumping up, running to the huge overlooking window to see her home falling apart. You imagined the fear engulfing her body coldly as she began to fall, her face contorted into a look of absolute terror. You imagined her falling, falling, falling for very long time, giving her far too long to contemplate what was about to become of her. Your eyes glazed over as you imagined her finally smashing to the ground. Would she land in New York? Would they bury her by your sister? 

You briskly shook your head, dispelling those venomous thoughts as best you could, and trudged onward. Though there was a crowd to contend with, it was surprisingly much smaller than the one at the police station, and relatively easy to work your way through. As you got closer to the gate, you were greeted by a row of officers, each standing staunchly in front of the gate, guarding it with their all. The threating gleam in their eyes filled your stomach with even more dread.

“Stop right there, miss,” one of the officers commanding voices boomed as you neared closer to the gate, “No access to this area whatsoever. Please make your way back to your home and The Prophet will keep you updated as-“

“I want to see Elizabeth.” You cut him off, your voice shaky and uneven.

“… Excuse me?” He asked, anger mingling with his words as he leaned slightly closer to you.

“I said I WANT TO SEE ELIZABETH.” Your voice rang clear this time, with conviction. Your vigilant gaze held fast to the officers.

He grimaced, “Listen here, girl, I don’t know what you are playing at, but-“

“Let her through.”

An unexpected voice rang through the air, drawing both your attention, as well as all the officers, through the gate. Your eyes grew larger as they landed on a man you had seen many a time before, and recognized as the head of police in Columbia. Yes, seeing him brought back many not so fond memories of your imprisonment in Finkton, as well as your trip to the shanty towns.

“S-Sir,” The officer stuttered, erecting his body respectfully in front of the man “Forgive me, I did not hear you approach, and also forgive my insolence but… You want me to let this girl through?”

His deep, calculating eyes darted from yours to the lesser officer, “Yes, and quickly.”

Without another word, the officer quickly stepped aside, opening the gate just enough so that you could make it through. An eruption of voices began to assault the air as the small crowd watching noticed that they were letting you inside. The officers were quick to take care of them, pushing them back so that they were far beyond earshot.

“Follow me.” The man ordered his voice holding a tone of aggression. You glanced up at him quietly, frightened by the shine in his hard eyes. Your body shuddered, a cold sweat consuming you as you followed closely behind him.

~

The next several hours were unbearable.

You sat through a barrage of questions and accusations in the dank, dilapidated caged chambers that once held Songbird. The chief officer was relentless in his attack, screaming and cursing at you, breaking you down with each word he spat in your face. But no matter how long he asked, or how heated he became, all your answers stayed the same. You had no idea what had happened to monument tower.

He leaned back in his chair after a long silence, folding his arms sloppily over his chest, making his shiny gold badge askew on his breast, “So, that’s it, huh? The supposed ‘best friend’ of The Lamb really has no FUCKING clue how this happened or who did this? Not even a hint?”

The cockiness in his voice made you want to stand up and punch him square in the jaw. You had already wasted enough time in this pit answering and re-answering this cockroach’s derogatory questions. It was valuable time you could have used to search for Elizabeth. You allowed your weary eyes to travel a bit to your surroundings, and as they did, you noticed that you were not alone. The place seemed to be crawling with cops, a whole police force circling around you, like a team of vultures waiting to pick apart a corpse.

A piercing SLAP on the table directly in front of you pulled your attention back at the chief as he screamed, “ANSWER ME!”

You swallowed, your voice coming out raspy and small, “I already told you over and over… I have no clue what is going on,” you stared at him pleadingly, your heavy eyes holding his sharp gaze, “Please Sir, what reason would I have to keep anything from you…? Please, I just want to know if Elizabeth is OK.”

For what seemed like an eternity, a thick silence held the air. Not a soul made a sound as the Chief stared hard into your eyes, as if he was scouring your soul for the truth. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, pushing off the desk, he stood up. He slowly walked over to your left side, stopping when he was mere inches away. Sighing again, he let his eyes fall back to yours.

“She’s dead.”

The world stopped. Everything came to a standstill as the words sunk into your brain.

“D-dead?” you choked, not grasping that such an outcome could actually be viable.

The chief nodded, tossing a small thimble on the table in front of you (a thimble you had given Elizabeth yourself), “Not too long after the tower collapsed, we searched the nearby wreckage and found her body mangled in with some of the towers remains. The Lamb is dead, and it is imperative we found out who lead this attack on her and why, which is why I am glad you came to us instead of us having to find you. Please understand that anything you may know or learn will help us greatly in stopping the monster that so brutally killed your dear friend.”

You heard the chief’s words, but your brain had ceased to process them before he could even finish them. Even though you were surrounded by many people, you had never felt so alone in your life. The world seemed so dark and gray, as if the sun had just given up on you, leaving you to slowly decay in this drab nightmare world. You felt so small and hollow, a large, bleak pit taking up the space where your heart once was. Your body shivered continually as you slumped farther into your chair, all your strength diminishing more and more with each passing moment. Nothing mattered anymore. You thought of her, beautiful, young, and lighthearted. You picture her laughing with you, dancing with you, singing with you. She was so, so brilliant. All around the loveliest human being you had ever had the pleasure of knowing… You cursed the world. She had so much to offer… So many wonderful talents she had yet to show the world… And now, she never would. You wished with all you were that the angels had taken you instead.

You heard officers surround you, and lift you to your feet, helping you steady yourself as you took agonizingly slow steps towards the door. You heard the Chief order some officers to take you home, that you would no longer be needed. As you were being slowly ushered away, what you didn’t hear was the officer ordering his men to keep constant surveillance on you outside your apartment. Just in case.

You wanted desperately to cry, to scream and trash and let the tears flood from your eyes. ANYTHING to dispel this hollow pain inside of you! However, no tears came, and you blindly let the men drag your husk of a body back home.

~

Who knew how much time had passed since you had been dropped off at your apartment.

Since the moment you walked through the door, all you had done was stumble over to the nearest chair and hurl your body into it. And there you had stayed draped against upholstery. Your breathing was shallow, your face dry and itchy from all the previous tears. You stared at the small cracks in the ceiling until it became too dark to make them out. As you sat, you tried not to think, because when you did, all you thought about was Elizabeth and how life would be now that she was gone. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you wondered that if you sat here long enough, if you’d eventually be able to just fade away. You tried to banish these thoughts as well, knowing Elizabeth would be adamantly against them, but at the current moment, those thoughts were the only ones that didn’t hurt.

Even more time past, and as it ticked by, you gave your imagination a little more leeway. Maybe the Chief was wrong. Maybe in the last minute, Elizabeth was able to open a tear that took her to safety? Maybe she was finally able to open a tear that took her out of Columbia… Or maybe she opened a tear closer to you, and any second, she’d come barging through your door with a huge smile plastered on her face? Of course, this was all wishful thinking. A stupid fantasy your mind concocted for not being able to handle the truth. The chief did say they found her body, after all. You slowly took the thimble out of your pocket, gripping it tightly in your hand. 

“Elizabeth…” You whispered dryly, another immense wave of pain flooding your body at the mention of her name. This was all too cruel.

~

More silence had past, when quite expectantly; a small knock came at your door dragging you out of your haze.

At first you were confused. Who could it possibly be? Seamus…? It was unlikely. Now more than ever the Vox needed him. Could it be Edith or Clarissa checking up on you? Maybe it was even someone from work? Could it be your mother? Honestly, it didn’t really matter. You had no desire for any human contact whatsoever at the moment.

However, the knocking came again. This time it was louder, and a little more frantic. You ignored it again. You knew if you just let it go long enough, they’d leave. You just had to be patient.

This time, the knock was almost booming. So much so that it made you jump. You glanced back at the door with a small scowl, when a tiny, muffled voice called to you from the other side.

“(Name),” It whisper-yelled in such a way, that you couldn’t make out who it was, only that it was female, “(Name)… Are you there? If so, please open the door! (Name)? Hello?”

With a small, defeated huff, you pulled yourself up, slowly shuffling towards the door. Whoever was there to greet you was making it quite apparent that they had no interest in leaving you alone. You hoped that once you opened the door and let them see the state you were in, they’d get the picture, and leave you be. With a heavy heart, you placed one hand on the handle, the other unlocking the latch. With your last burst of energy, you cracked the door open slowly, your eyes squinting a bit as they adjusted to the light in the hallway.

Who you found outside you simply couldn’t comprehend. You blinked repeatedly; rubbing your eyes a bit to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. Your empty heart slowly started to tick back into action, beating more and more strongly and excitedly the more you glanced at her. Your eyes hung on her dazzling blue orbs, her face so brightly illuminated with joy that you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

“… Elizabeth?” You quietly questioned, not wanting to jinx yourself. You were afraid at any moment, this mirage would end.

You saw tears begin to well up in her eyes, and as she bit her quivering bottom lip, you could tell she was holding back a sob. She quickly bobbed her head ‘yes’ and then, without any hesitation, flung herself into your arms, knocking you both back into the apartment. 

It was unreal. Feeling her petite frame clinging desperately to yours after you thought she was long gone… Seeing her outside of the tower! All of it was so wild and exciting, and above all, made you so damn overjoyed you could barely stand it.

You latched onto her tightly, pulling her so close to you no one would have been able to pull you apart. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, and let yourself go. Both of you stood encompassed in each other, a strange mix of laughter and sobs coming from your throats.

In that moment you vowed to never lose her again.

~

A/N: I like to think that when you are screaming at the cop you sound just like Batman. “WHERE IS SHE?! WHERE IS THE LAAAAAAAAAMB?!”

Anyway, THE MOTHER FUCKING FEELS.

Lizbeth isn’t dead! Yay!!! Reunited and it FEELS SO GOOD!

That police chief is a douche. He probs has a Comstock poster over his bed that he kisses every night before he goes to sleep. Nerd.

Thank you lovelies for reading! I hope you all enjoyed it, even if it was a little short! Also, sorry for the lack of Booker, but this should be the last chapter without him. :D I love you all look forward to the next chapter!!!


	18. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were beyond thrilled that Elizabeth was still alive... But who was this man with her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, what’s up?! Mothra here with chapter 18!!!! Woo! :D Sorry this one took a bit to get out, it’s totally not because I’ve been lounging around watching anime and playing Otome games (OK, yes it was). Sorry everyone, but here it is now!!!
> 
> ALSO, I got overwhelming positive response for my Rapture fic and Robert fic ideas, SO GUESS WHAT’S GONNA BE HAPPENING?! *Big sparkly shoujo eyes* Be patient though, because they may not happen for a while. I have quite the planning to do on them…
> 
> Thank you everyone for your kindness, love, reviews, kudos, reads, comments, ideas, question, suggestions, and everything and all in between! I have the best readers ever, and I never want you guys to forget that! :D
> 
> Anyway, read on guys! I’m really happy with how this chapter turned out, especially since I had some trouble initially writing it out. Let me know what you think, and get ready for some official legit interaction with Mister Dewitt. ;D

The sun was setting on one of the longest days he had had in a long time.

So far today, he had: braved the turbulent ocean in a rickety little boat, been shot thousands of feet into the air in an equally rickety airship, almost been drowned by a crazy priest, been accused of being this ‘false shepherd’ everyone is searching for, been hunted and nearly killed and had to kill because of it, been introduced to some crazy elixirs that gave him strange powers, broke into the tower and found the girl, tried to save girl and got attacked by a huge mechanical bird, nearly drowned again (with the girl), snuck through the surrounding beach area until detected and (of course) shot at, had Elizabeth run away after she didn’t like the outcome, found her again, made amends, made it to this ‘Soldier’s Field’ place, and here they stood now, ready to FINALLY summon the gondola that could take them outta this jacked up place. 

Booker sighed heavily, ‘I guess it’s all in a day’s work, but honestly, I can’t ever recall taking a job this taxing… or for that matter, this strange.’

He glanced over at Elizabeth, and felt his chest tighten. It was true that she was just a job; another means to dig him out of this seemingly endless pit of debt he managed to get lost in. But even with those thoughts firm in his mind, he still felt quite a bit of guilt about the situation. Looking down at her, she appeared so small… innocent and fragile, totally sheltered from the horrors that were a daily occurrence to people such as him. She could barely handle seeing him take down those few people earlier, and he knew damn well more would be on their way. How would she react then? Though it was no life being watched and documented up in that tower for years on end, would it really be any better for her outside of it? What would become of this girl once he got her to New York? What did the people that hired him want with her? He shook his head lightly, ‘Those details aren’t for me to worry about.’

“Mister Dewitt, are you ready?”

Her excited voice broke his concentration, as her vibrant deep blue gaze befell his own worn eyes. She was positioned with her arms excitedly outstretched towards the lever that would bring the gondola towards them. He gave her a lopsided grin, his hand reaching up to firmly grasp the handle.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Just as the words crossed his lips, he pulled the trigger, causing a loud burst of sparks and grinding machinery to pierce the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth jump away from the device, taken aback by what happened. A deep frown formed on his face as he stared hard at the shorted out gondola. Why could things never be easy?

“Looks like this runs exclusively on Shock Jockey.” Elizabeth stated, a look of annoyance on her face matching the tone in her voice. 

Booker smirked ironically. Seemed she was thinking and feeling the same way he was.

“Of course it does,” Booker replied exasperatedly, “and where in the hell are we gonna find that?”

“Look,” Elizabeth exclaimed, drawing Booker’s attention to the sign she was pointing at, “Come see the future of power at the Hall Of Heroes!”

“Huh,” Booker scoffed, “Well, that’s convenient. Come on Elizabeth, we need to get going.”

As he caught a glimpse of her over his shoulder, he caught her in mid-yawn, and that’s when how tired she seemed dawned on him. Her shoulders were slumping, her eyes drooping, and the pep she had displayed all day was diminishing quickly. Taking her in in such a state made Booker realize that he as well was getting rather worn, and wouldn’t mind finding a place to take a breather for a bit.

He sighed, “You know Elizabeth, it’s actually getting pretty dark. Before you know it, it’ll be night time,” he glanced over to find the brunette girl’s interest fully trained on him, a look of relief washing over her features.

‘So she really is tired,’ He thought to himself before continuing, “I think it’d be best if we found a place to hide out for the night. We both had an eventful day to say the least, and it’d benefit us both to rest up for the oncoming trip… Besides, the airship won’t be going anyplace tonight, anyway.”

Elizabeth sighed, a happy smile lighting up her weary face, “Oh good, I wasn’t going to complain to you Mister Dewitt, but I am getting rather tired… I didn’t really realize it until now though, I guess I am just so excited about Paris,” the hopeful shine in her eye made Booker look away, that feeling of guilt crawling back into his chest, “But I didn’t want to slow you down, so I’m glad you said something first!”

“Yeah well, don’t fall asleep on me quite yet. We still have to find a place that’s safe enough to get sleep,” Booker gruffly replied, letting his hands rest on his hips as he surveyed the area for a possible spot, “And I feel like that is going to be easier said than done.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that Mister Dewitt!”

Confused, Booker turned himself around so that he was facing Elizabeth, a sly smile tugging hard at the corners of her lips, “I happen to know that perfect place to spend the night!”

~

It had been two hours since Elizabeth had informed him of this supposed ‘perfect place to spend the night’, and all she had managed to do so far is lead them on a wild goose chase. He was beginning to think it was all some kind of joke. How could Elizabeth even have a ‘friend’ in this city when she spent her whole life secluded away in a tower? Maybe she was disillusioned, and just thought this lady existed in the city? Whatever the reason, Booker was growing more and more agitated, hungry, and tired with each passing second they spent dodging around in the shadows of Columbia. He was just about to voice his opinions to her, when she ‘Ah-ha’d!’ for probably the twentieth time that night.

“This is it,” she pointed valiantly to a small, but nice looking apartment complex, a determined smile on her lips, “I am absolutely, positively sure this time!!!”

“Really,” Booker grunted, annoyance in his voice, “Because that’s what you said the last time, and when I knocked on the door, a ninety year old man with dementia answered, NOT a twenty three year old girl.”

She looked at him staunchly, “Well, that was a mistake, and this is not. Of that I am positive… And look at the bright side, at least that old man with dementia won’t report us.”

“Well, you are right about that, I guess,” he sighed, “If you are sure this is it, then let’s get a move on.“

Just as Booker and Elizabeth began to walk towards the building, Booker’s eye caught something that made him shoot his arm out, causing Elizabeth to stumble into it. 

“Booker, what’s the problem,” Elizabeth pouted up at him, “I told you I’m sure this time-“

He held his finger up to his lips, hushing her instantly. “That’s not it, look.” He whispered, pointing to the top of your apartment complex, where two gunmen stood chatting, “Let me take care of this. You wait here.”

He scooted her back into a shadowy nook before he made his way towards the building. Quiet, and with a surprising amount of stealth, he was able to sneak up along its side, where to his luck, he spied a ladder. He grabbed on to it gently, pleasantly surprised to find that it was strongly attached to the building, and didn’t make any noise of movement as he hoisted himself up it.

As he neared the top, he could hear to two men carrying on their conversation.

“So, not a peep from her, huh,” the first voice questioned, he sounded masculine, but young, “no movement whatsoever?”

“Nope, none at all,” the second voice responded, this one gruffer and older sounding, “But you know, it’s to be expected. I mean, the Chief broke her down pretty badly… I almost feel sorry for the poor girl.”

The first man snorted, “Please, she is NOT where you should place your pity! Rumor has it the little bitch is running around with the Vox, which I guess is fitting considering she is half paddy,” For some reason, this man’s words caused an anger to swell inside Booker that he couldn’t understand. He gripped the ladder harder, turning his knuckles white as he continued to speak, “on top of that she treated Fink like garbage after taking her in AND disrespects the word of the Prophet! The girl is total trash!”

The other man sighed, “I suppose you are right… But still, did we really have to lie to her about The Lamb?”

The first man huffed angrily, “Of course we did, Jacob! If we didn’t, who knows what the little whore would be doing right now?! Probably teaming up with the False Shepherd, if I had to guess,” The man clicked his tongue before speaking, “I just wish we could have done something worse than lie to her… Something that would have really shown her her place, you know? But anyway, I digress… any other news to report? Nobody has tried to come to the building, have they?”

“No, it remains evacuated except for the girl,” the second man responded, “No one has even attempted to come to the surrounding area, let alone the building.”

Booker smiled, ‘Good, looks like we found the perfect spot to crash. Let’s just hope the girl they are keeping an eye on inside is Elizabeth’s ‘friend’.’

Booker listened as he heard one of them clap the other on the shoulder, before the younger voice spoke, “Well, hopefully your night will be just as easy. You’ll be the only here until about 7am, so keep your wits about you. According to the Chief, this girl isn’t much a threat anymore, and The Lamb is not expected to show around here is she hasn’t already, so it should be any easy night,” Booker listened as he heard a set of footsteps walking away, “We’ll come check on you tomorrow morning Jacob. Stay alert, and report any suspicious activity.”

“Will do,” was all ‘Jacob’ responded as Booker listened to the other man’s footsteps fade farther away, followed by the sound of a door opening, and then no noise all together. He stared to his left, pressing his body tightly against the building so as not to be seen, when after a few minutes the officer appeared from the apartment complex, walking briskly away into the night, completely oblivious to the fact that he just strolled past the one girl everyone was itching to get. Booker smiled to himself, ‘With people like that hunting us, maybe getting the girl outta this place won’t be as hard as I thought.’

Booker waited a bit longer on the ladder to make completely sure the man was really gone, and after he was sure that he was, he proceeded to climb all the way up, peeking over the edge to see a lone gunman squatted in the darkness. There was nothing but a small fire to illuminate his surroundings, but even in such a small glow of light, Booker was able to determine that the man was in fact alone. Booker could also make out that he seemed rather occupied by fixing up his gun at the moment, and he decided that now was a good a time as any to strike. 

He slowly made his way over the ladder, crouching and sneaking as quietly as he possibly could. Unfortunately for him, stealth was not his strong suit, and after just a few steps, he garnered the man’s attention.

“Back again, Rodney? What is it this time,” the man asked, throwing Booker a slide glance as his eyes grew in, “Wait a minute, who the hell are you-“

Without giving him another second to react, Booker pulled out the skyline hook he had attached to his belt. He quickly lunged at the man, closing the distance between the two of them in no time flat. With one hand, he latched on tightly to the man’s hair, shoving his throat in between the skylines metallic prongs. With a hard pull of the trigger, the hook whirred into life, goring the man in no time flat. Releasing the trigger and his grip on his (now loosely attached) head, he watched as the man fell lifelessly to the ground with a hard thud, his face utterly unrecognizable after what Booker had done to him.

Booker turned away, and proceeded to head back to Elizabeth. He had already wasted enough time up the roof.

~

“We’re clear,” Booker called out to the girl, flinging the last of the blood off his skyhook as he approached her.

Elizabeth stepped out of the shadows, nodding, “Good… I saw one guy walk past me, but he didn’t notice me at all… You didn’t have too much trouble up top, did you?”

“Nah, it was just one guy,” Booker responded, reattaching the bulky Skyhook to him, “But I did hear him talking to the guy who passed you by before I took care of him,” he watched as a Elizabeth slightly quaked at his words, obviously still disturbed by how easily he could kill. It caused him to frown, and with a sigh, he continued, “He said only one girl was in the building, one girl they were ordered to keep an eye on… Are you sure the girl in question is your ‘friend’? Because if it ain’t, I don’t really think we should be wasting any more time here.”

Elizabeth looked at him hard, and nodded her head staunchly, “Yes… It couldn’t be anyone else. It has to be (Name)!”

“(Name)?” Both hearing that name, as well as speaking it, caused something to stir inside Booker. A strange, nostalgic feeling over took his body, causing his heart to beat a little quicker in excitement, ‘Where have I heard that name before...’

“Come on,” Elizabeth latched onto Booker’s unwounded hand, breaking him from his thoughts. She began to tug him towards the door, a huge excited smile beaming from her face, “this is no time to dawdle, Mister Dewitt!!! I can’t wait to introduce you two!”

~ 

At first, she didn’t notice Booker, and he thought that was probably for the best, considering the absolute feeling of shock that froze his body in place.

Figures it’d be his luck that Elizabeth’s friend turned out to be the girl singing at the flower shop.

Before Elizabeth crashed into your arms, you looked broken. Totally and utterly empty, like a porcelain doll a child had accidentally dropped for a great height, shattering it to bits. Honestly, it hurt Booker to look at you. He wasn’t much for seeing women in pain to begin with, but for some reason with you in particular, he could barely stand it. He gritted his teeth as he started into your sunken eyes, trying desperately to figure out a way to erase that look on your face…. But he just couldn’t. He was frozen in place, stuck in an awkward dance between wanting to help, and knowing that none of this was any of his damn business. Still, he couldn’t help but breathe a small sigh of relief when Elizabeth embraced you, taking a note of the shine coming back to your eyes. He even began to smile as he continued to watch the two of you, a mess of sobbing happiness. He wouldn’t admit this to either of you, but it warmed his heart, and for those several seconds he was able to forget the mission, forget tricking the girl into going to New York, forget his debt, and forget it all. For those few seconds, his soul was at peace, and it was a nicer feeling than words could describe…

“Elizabeth… who is this?”

~

After a few minutes of intense hugging and water works past, you were able to pull yourself together, and come to the realization that yes, Elizabeth WAS in front of you, out of her tower, away from Comstock, Songbird, the tower, all of it. You weren’t crazy or hallucinating. She was brilliantly alive and with you… However, she was not alone.

You were so caught up in Elizabeth’s presence that you hadn’t even noticed the man standing mere inches behind her. When you finally did notice, your heart nearly burst from your chest upon recognizing him.

‘The man at the flower shop,’ You anxiously thought to yourself, ‘What is he doing here?! Where did he come from?!’

Your eyes lingered on him for a bit as you tried to figure this scenario out. He was standing rather still, but the way his eyes darted from you to Elizabeth gave you the impression that he was, despite his rough guy exterior, rather nervous. You frowned lightly, your focus going back to Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth… Who is this?” You asked, concern lining your voice as you gently took your friends hand, tugging her slightly away from the man. Though he still had your interests highly peaked, Elizabeth came first, and any man who could somehow get her out of Monument tower had to be dangerous, as well as have some pretty treacherous motives.

Elizabeth slyly smiled, pulling away from you as she pranced over to the mystery man, “This is Mister Dewitt, the man who swooped in out of the blue and saved me from that awful prison of a tower,” she flung her arms out in such a way that it made her look like she was presenting some kind of award, and you could tell by the man’s slight scowl and the way he lazily scratched his head that it made him uncomfortable, “May I present to you, Mister Booker Dewitt,” She then held her arms out in your direction, turning her attentions back towards the man, “Mister Dewitt, this is my best friend, confidant, and self-appointed sister, (Name)!”

You nodded slightly at Elizabeth’s introduction, “Mister Dewitt, it’s um, a pleasure to meet you.” You finished by holding out your hand to him hesitantly, still baffled by this whole situation, ‘Booker Dewitt… Where have I heard that name before?’

After a brief awkward moment of leaving your hand hanging stiffly in the air, he stepped forward, lightly taking your hand in his, “Just Booker is fine,” he cleared his throat, dropping your hand almost as soon as he grabbed it, “uh, the pleasure’s all mine.”

A small smirk crept on your lips at his words, and you felt warmth begin to rise in your cheeks. Turning back to Elizabeth, you let your smile grow, as you latched onto her hands and pulled her farther into your apartment, “Please, both of you, come inside! The story of how you arrived on my doorstep is one I simply cannot wait to hear!”

~

You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting to hear, but the tale Booker and Elizabeth spun for you was definitely something you weren’t prepared for.

You sat across from them, mouth hanging agape as they continued to gnaw away at the modest little meal you had hurriedly prepared for them. Your wide eyes bounced from the extremely enthusiastic Elizabeth (who made sure to give you lots of intense visual’s and gesticulations during her parts of the story), to the incredibly fatigued Booker, who despite the fact that he looked as if he could pass out any moment, put away food faster than anyone you had ever seen. You furrowed your brow in dismay at them, your look of shock morphing into a more horrified expression when it began to fully sink in that they were, in fact, telling you the truth.

“So,” you spoke slowly, garnering both of their attentive gazes, “you are telling me that Mister Dewitt managed to get to Columbia, made it Monument Tower, somehow got inside without incident after fighting his way through the city, and magically had the key to get you out? The same key we have been trying nearly our whole lives to figure out how to get? And it was given to you by whom, again?”

“The people that hired me,” Booker spoke, his deep green eyes staying locked on yours, “don’t ask me how they got it, because I couldn’t tell you.”

You huffed incredulously, “… That just doesn’t seem fair… Who in the hell could have gotten that key?!”

“(Name),”Elizabeth softly spoke, rubbing your arm a bit to calm you down, “It’s OK! It doesn’t really matter how he got it, does it? All that matter is that we got out in one piece!”

You snorted, “Yeah, barely! I still can’t believe you survived a fall from that height,” you sighed deeply, shaking your head in a concerned matter, “To escape Songbird AND a fall from that height AND heavily armed Columbian officials?! My God… Wait, what happened to Songbird after he plunged into the ocean after you?!”

Elizabeth shook her head, “I’m not sure. After I came to I made sure to run and aide Booker, but by that time, Songbird was already long gone,” Elizabeth averted her gaze, her face taking on a wistful expression as her voice came out much softer, “Maybe… Maybe he is gone for good.”

“I doubt it,” Booker spoke roughly, garnering both Elizabeth and your own attentions, “Whatever the hell that thing is, a little dunk in a puddle is going to stop it. Slow it down for a bit, sure, but he’ll be back. That’s why we need to get outta here as soon as possible.”

You frowned, as fear began to envelope your body, “Do you… Do you really think that’s possible? That you’ll just be able to leave Columbia?”

Booker shrugged, “No turning back now,” he then smirked slightly, turning his attention towards Elizabeth, “Besides, not like you have much of a home to return to anyway after that big bird ripped it apart.”

You knew he was just trying to lighten the mood a bit, but the nonchalance in Booker’s words rubbed you completely the wrong way. Your frown deepened as you clapped your hands roughly on the table, drawing Booker and Elizabeth’s surprised attentions back to you.

“I don’t find that very funny, Mister Dewitt,” you tried your hardest to sound tough, but found yourself forcing your voice from wavering more than anything, “Look, you seem like a tough man, and based on what you just told me, capable and strong to boot. I’m not exactly sure what your ‘job’ exactly is, but based on how unfazed by all of this you are, I’m sure it’s something that requires constant threats and danger… But Columbia…,” you voice clouded over, as you turned a sharp eye to Booker, “Columbia has horrors lurking in it that you could never imagine. It seems this place specializes and thrives on taking nightmares and turning them to reality… Mister Dewitt, to put it plainly, getting out of here isn’t going to be easy. Not in the least,” your eyes darted to Elizabeth, and back to his, “and I’m more than a little angry that you just think you can waltz in here with a magic key to free my best friend, somehow manage to get to this point without getting killed, and just automatically think I will trust you to rescue Elizabeth from Columbia... If you think for one second you are just going to spirit the person who means the most to me away from here and into the horrors of Columbia without being prepared for what lies ahead you are dead wrong,” you let your fierce demeanor falter a bit as you spoke the next part, “I’ve already had a taste of this world without Elizabeth, and it is something I NEVER want to experience again.”

“Please, I meant no disrespect, “ Booker shook his head lightly, and held his hand up in an apologetic manner, “Look… It’s quite obvious that you two girls have a very strong bond, and I understand your concern more than you know. I get that it’s hard putting trust in someone like me… But like it or not, I’m the one that going to get her out of here,” the conviction in his voice lightened your mood, and made your heart beat quicken, “When I get hired to do something, I don’t skimp on it. I see it out till the end and I do it right. Now, I’ve already seen unimaginable things in this damned place, and I know there are more to come… But what you need to realize is that I’ve also seen hell’s you can’t imagine, and I’ve fought and made it through each and every damned one of them, “ he breathed deeply, his weary eyes boring deeply into yours, “ I’ll make sure we make it through this one, too, regardless of what they send our way. You have my word.”

A silence hung in the air as you judged Booker’s words. The longer you looked into his eyes, the more your heart seemed to ache. His words echoed through you as your brain struggled to make sense of the whole situation. You wanted to believe this man. You deeply, deeply, wanted to. Your breathing started to come to heavier the more you felt him stare. Just when it seemed your head and heart would never come to an agreement on what to make of him, Elizabeth spoke.

“(Name)… I trust Booker,” she began, “I’ve seen him fight for me. I’ve seen him… kill… for me. If anyone can get me out of here, it’s him. In fact, I feel as if it can ONLY be him,” She reached over and gently grabbed your hands, “And besides, we won’t be alone.”

“… What do you mean by that?” You questioned, noting that Booker also seemed rather perplexed by her words.

She smiled slyly, “Come on, (Name)! Isn’t it obvious? What makes you think I’d have any interest living any place you aren’t,” your eyes lit up happily as you caught onto what she was saying, and she proceeded to turn to Booker before speaking again, “Mister Dewitt, I thank you for getting me this far, but I’ll have you know that the only way you’ll get me out of Columbia and into Paris is with this girl by my side,” she once again turned to you, smiling the biggest and brightest you had ever seen from her.

“It’s non-negotiable.” She finished, with a bold nod.

~

A/N: Awwwww, yes! Stick up for ya girl and she’ll stick up for you! LIZ AND READER FOR LIFE, HELL YEAH! 

No, but seriously, Liz is just so darn cute I can’t even. :D

And Booker, what a nerd. Tch, too nervous to even touch your hand for an extended period of time. What a little dweeb. :P

Well, I hope you all liked it! The next one should be up soon, so stay tuned! :D I love you all!


	19. Sharing Some Alone Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, it’s Mothra!!! Long time no see! First and foremost I APOLOGIZE FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART AND SOUL FOR TAKING SO LONG TO UPDATE! Truly, I am sorry! I have been working hard on preparing for a trip to Detroit for Youmacon at the end of this month, and what with getting cosplays and travel stuff all worked out (on top of work and other life stuff) I haven’t had much time for fic updating. I apologize! 
> 
> OTHER THAN THAT, this update is pretty hefty to make up for the lack of updates recently, and there is a bunch of you interacting with Booker in it, so that is a plus! :D I hope you all thoroughly enjoy it
> 
> I won’t keep you any longer, read on my little moths! :D

Booker didn’t even try to hide the less than thrilled expression that graced his face after Elizabeth’s declaration.

“Elizabeth,” he started, casting weary glances your way. It was painfully apparent how uncomfortable he felt being stuck in this situation, “I was hired to get YOU out of Columbia… JUST you. “

“I understand that, Mister Dewitt,” Elizabeth shot back, her hand clutching tightly to yours, “But (name) and I have made an oath that will not be broken. If I leave, she is coming. Otherwise… otherwise I’ll just let Songbird find me. They can lock me up again!”

You turned to your friend quickly, “Elizabeth, don’t say things like that!”

“It’s true,” she proclaimed, her staunch stare staying trained on Booker’s, “Mister Dewitt, don’t get me wrong. All my life all I’ve ever dreamed of is being out of that tower, and out of this city. But none of it would mean anything without (name) by my side. And if she can’t be with me, well… I’d take a million lives of seclusion over leaving her behind.”

Hot tears were brimming on your eyelids, “Elizabeth…” You whispered, positively moved by your friends love for you. You wanted to embrace her, but were stopped when Booker spoke.

“… Look, I mean no disrespect here, but (name) already said it herself. Getting you outta here is going to be damned hard. Everyone and their mother are going to be after us. I can protect you, and I can protect myself, but bringing a third member into the party is going to add unnecessary risk. I just can’t guarantee-“

“I know how to use a gun,” you blurted out abruptly, taking both Elizabeth and Booker by surprise, “I’ve been practicing for quite some time now, and have become rather good!   
True, I haven’t actually done any real shooting in dangerous situations… But I promise I can fend for myself, and even protect Elizabeth and yourself if I need to!” As the last part escaped your lips, you unwillingly blushed at the thought of being in the middle of a fierce battle, fighting hard to protect Booker and Elizabeth from oncoming enemy hoards.   
You hurriedly cast your eyes down in hope he wouldn’t catch your embarrassment. 

“See Mister Dewitt, you have nothing to worry about,” Elizabeth declared, her small hand patting the top of your shoulder, “My little chickadee here is not one to be messed with, I’ll have you know. Also, need I remind you that (Name) has lived in Columbia most of her life, and knows her way around this place like the back of her hand, isn’t that right (Name)?”

You nodded, “It’s true. I know of all kinds of nooks and crannies I’m sure not even the Prophet himself knows exist. And I know the fastest and easiest routes to get nearly everywhere.”

“That does sound helpful,” Booker grumbled, tapping his foot on the ground in a slow, calculating, rhythm. Seeing him stew over the idea of bringing you along set your nerves on end. You had to convince him to take you along, there was no other option.

“You’re planning on hijacking the first ladies airship to get out of Columbia, correct?” You questioned to Booker, determination in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” he responded, giving you a curious look, “But we need some of that damned Shock Jockey to get there; stuff that’s apparently only at ‘Soldier’s Field’.”

A smile spread upon your lips, “What if I were to tell you that not only do I know just the way to Soldier’s field, but also that I know EXACTLY where to find the Shock Jockey you need? “

Booker pulled himself up from his slouched position, leaning in closer to hear what you had to say next. Your smile grew as you realized that you had him.

“Really… You can get us to Soldier’s Field and score us some Shock Jockey, preferably with as little confrontation as possible?”

You nodded, “I can and I will if you agree to take me with you,” You noticed his face begin to slink back into a look of uncertainty, and promptly added, “At least to Soldier’s Field! Let me prove myself! If I end up weighing you down, you can leave me behind.”

“(Name)!” Elizabeth interjected, but you held up a hand to silence her.

“And you promise me that if I have to be left behind, you’ll follow Mister Dewitt and get out of here without me,” a look of horrified sadness began to creep on her face, before you added, “Elizabeth we both know the major problem with escaping was getting YOU out of here. I’m sure I’d find a way to sneak myself out of Columbia one way or the other, even if the whole damn city was trying to stop me… You honestly think I’d let this place keep me from you either way?” You words reassured her, and she granted you a small smile of which you were happy to return.

“So, what do you say, Mister Dewitt? Do we have a deal?”

He stared at you hard for several seconds, weighing in his head the pros and cons of letting you tag along. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you fought to contain your nerves, your hands fidgeting anxiously by your sides. After what seemed like hours, Booker smirked and shook his head.

“You ladies drive a hard bargain,” he snorted, holding his left hand out for you to grasp, “I guess it’s a deal, then. I’m ready to see what you got.”

You smiled at the man, grasping his hand with small shake, “You won’t be disappointed.”

After the hand shake, you let your hand stay nestled in his grasp for several seconds. Unsurprisingly, his hands were large and strong, covered in hard callouses and dotted with cuts and scars. What did surprise you, however, was how despite all that, his touch was one of the most gentle you had felt in a long time… And was it just you, or did he also seem to be reveling in the feeling of your skin coming in contact?

Just as the thought had crossed your mind, he pulled away briskly, and you were left feeling embarrassed that you even thought it to begin with.

~

“So, this is your bedroom, huh?” A half-dressed, slightly damp Elizabeth asked as she flopped herself down lazily on your bed.

After you and Elizabeth had convinced Booker to let you come along with them, you had set to work getting your humble apartment ready for their night’s stay. After setting up the couch for Booker to sleep on, you offered both of them a chance to use the shower while you cleaned their clothes. Elizabeth was the first to happily oblige.

“Here it is in all its glory,” you responded with a tired smile, swooping your hand in a lackluster motion, “I know it’s unimpressive and small, but its home.”

Elizabeth shook her head, her still wet hair tendrils clinging to her face as she did so, “No, I really like it. It’s small, but in a comforting, homey sort of way,” she pulled herself up into a sitting position, “all of it really feels like you… as if I had found this place on my own, I’d know this space was yours. That’s what really makes it special.”

Your smile grew as you climbed up next to your friend on the bed, bringing her into your tight embrace, “I just can’t believe you are out of that tower! I still am not sure if I quite believe it, even with you right here in my arms!”

She returned the hug just as tightly, “I know, it feels like a dream, doesn’t it? I really owe Booker for this, that’s for sure. Once we get to Paris we’ll have to find some way to pay him back!”

At the mention of Booker, your smile dropped. You released your grip on Elizabeth, pulling back so that you were staring her straight in the eye, “Elizabeth… What do you know about this Dewitt guy?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, seemingly puzzled you would say such a thing.

You sighed, “Well, it’s just that… I don’t know, don’t you think this all seems a little fishy? A man comes out of the blue with a key to monument tower that he received from some unknown people whom hired him to rescue you and take you away to Paris… and for what purpose? How does any of this benefit him? It’s not that I’m not thrilled that you aren’t out of that damned building, but I’m also not naïve enough to believe that this Mister Dewitt doesn’t have something else up his sleeve. He has a reason for doing this, Elizabeth. People don’t put themselves in this kind of danger for nothing.”

Elizabeth sat quiet for a moment, her face formed in a look of deep thought. She sighed, “… I know, I know. After we made it out of monument tower, we ended up on the shore of Battleship Bay. Mr. Dewitt had really taken a throttle, and for a long time he struggled through going in and out of consciousness. While he was passed out I considered taking off. Finding you, leaving him, and somehow getting the heck out of this city. I was so close to doing it, nothing was stopping me, but…”

“But what?” you asked, completely engrossed.

“I just… I just couldn’t. I don’t know, seeing him lying there in the sand, wounded and alone, he just seemed so… Helpless, I guess. Lost and out of place. I wanted… I wanted to make sure he was okay. I felt like I at least owed him that much for getting me out of that tower and away from Songbird. And also, I realized I probably wouldn’t make it far without him. I mean, I’m small and sneaky, but with an entire police force hunting me I don’t stand a chance on my own. And well, I can defend myself to a point, but not from battalions! So I watched over him, and didn’t stray far until he was up and moving again, and then when he found me, he offered me a chance to Paris that I couldn’t say no to. So, yes, it is fishy. I have no clue just how he got that key or why he is doing any of this… But really, does it matter? So far he’s done nothing but risk his life for me and protect me, and that’s got to be worth something, don’t you think? Whatever reason he has for doing what he’s doing, I feel like I can trust him. This is it, (Name). Mister Dewitt is our ride out of here.”

You stared at her long and hard, processing her words in your head, before responding, “… If you say so, Elizabeth, but I’m not sure I trust him just yet,” you grabbed her shoulders lightly, “But I promise I’ll protect you; from Comstock, from the police, even from Mister Dewitt, if it comes down to it. I won’t let them take you away again.”   
Elizabeth’s eyes shone watery, as she fell gently against your body, snuggling in close to you, “I am so thankful to have you, (Name). And I am so grateful to finally rid myself of this place with you by my side. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of! Our lives finally get to truly start!”

Though intense nerves and doubt still wracked your body, you couldn’t help but smile warmly at your friend and pull her closer to you. If Elizabeth was going to put her trust in Mister Dewitt, you would try and do so as well while keeping a strict eye on him, despite all the weird fluttery feelings you had to force away any time you so much as glanced at him. You sighed as you thought about the following days to come; where would you end up? What will happen? Will you actually make it to Paris? Who was to say, but lord knows Elizabeth deserved to be rid of life in Columbia, and you deserved just as much.

After a few minutes of quiet reflection, Elizabeth stirred, reaching her hand over to a small bedside table which held a few small trinkets and several pictures.

“Hey, who is this,” Elizabeth called out, grabbing hold of a small frame, “he is gorgeous!”

You glanced down, your eyes making contact with a familiar face, “Oh, that’s Seamus. I guess you’ve never seen him before, have you?”

“THIS is Seamus,” She called out excitedly, “(Name), you told me he was handsome, but this man is almost too good to be true! Way to snag ‘im, you minx!” She finished with a light, playful slap on your knee.

You laughed nervously. Truth be told, Seamus had been completely void from your thoughts since you saw Monument Tower crumbling. Even as you were planning booking it from Columbia, the man didn’t cross your mind once. You frowned, guilt washing over you. How could you possibly plan an escape without even taking him into consideration? But a worse thought than that crept into your head… how will he take your leaving? You could only imagine his response would be anger… That or worse. Would he try and stop you? The more you dwelled on it, the more and more you realized that you didn’t actually want Seamus to come away with you, feeling he’d only bring unnecessary drama, nor did you necessarily want him know you were leaving. He’d prefer to stay up in the clouds, right? Helping the Vox, assisting Daisy, surely that appealed to him more than Paris… right? You shook your head a bit, ‘What is wrong with me! I can’t believe I’m thinking this way! How can I have such negative thoughts about the man I love?!’

“(Name),” Elizabeth called softly, bringing your attention down to her worried eyes, “Are you okay? You seem a little out of it.”

You cleared your throat, smiling down at her, “Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry… It’s just that Seamus…”

“I’ll ask Booker if he can come with us,” she piped in hopefully, “I mean, he’s a strong, fighter-type, right? He could be a big help to our escape!”

You gave her a lopsided smile, “I appreciate that but I don’t think that either Mister Dewitt OR Seamus would be too keen on that idea… They don’t seem to be that fond of each other.”

“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked, confusion emanating from her being.

“Well, you see, Mister Dewitt actually swung by the flower shop earlier today, I guess while in search of you. Seamus and I were singing and Booker stopped for a listen… Let’s just say Seamus’ childish temper got the better of him which I’m sure left a rather sour impression of him in Booker’s mind.”

“You really met him before he broke me out? How crazy! It almost seems like fate or something, doesn’t it?” She finished with an eager smile.

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Fate.”

“Well, I’m sorry that meeting turned sour… What do you want to do, then? If he can’t come with us, I mean…”

You thought hard for a few moments, your face reflecting the stern thoughts passing through your mind, “… You come first, Elizabeth,” you finally spoke in a soft, yet firm, tone, “you always have and always will. I leave with you, and I’ll find a way back to him later.”

She gave you a sad smile, “Once we make it to Paris, getting Seamus will be our top priority! I promise, (Name).” She finished by giving your hand a small squeeze.

You sat in silence for a while, trying to push the guilt of leaving Seamus out of your mind, when Elizabeth’s voice once again broke the silence.

“Soooo,” She slyly cooed, “Have you and Seamus… You know.”

You stared down at her; your eyes squinted in questioning, “Have we what?”

Elizabeth rolled away from you, her cheeks turning slightly rosy, “You know… Have you… Consummated the relationship?”

Your eyes grew wide, “Elizabeth!”

She laughed, “What?! It’s a perfectly normal question!”

“How-why-what,” you sputtered, flustered, “Elizabeth, where did that question even come from?!”

She smirked, “Come on, (Name), I’m a little too old to still believe the stork theory! And I’ve read plenty of books of the subject to know what goes on in the secret lives of lovers,” she threw you a devious look, causing your cheeks to burn red, “So fill me in! What’s it like? Does it feel weird?!”

“First off, consummated is only a term used for married couples, which Seamus and I are not,” You responded as sternly as you could while battling your embarrassment, “and second off… Well, he’s initiated it, but…”

“But?” Elizabeth spoke, leaning in closer to hear your response.

Your brain flooded with horribly awkward memories of the several times Seamus had tried to get you to do any kind of sexual act with him. Every clumsy and uncomfortable encounter hammered away in your brain, forcing you to remember how damned embarrassed, unprepared, dirty, and a little forced you felt in all those situations. Though Seamus never took it too far, you could tell that your unwillingness to give yourself to him was something that really bothered him… Or maybe a better term was angered.

“We’ve never gone through with it,” you hurriedly spoke, wanting to forget about it as fast as you could, “I’m just not ready for that.”

Noting the discomfort in your face, Elizabeth was quick to reply, “I understand, I’m sorry I brought it up.”

You shook your head with a smirk, “No, it’s okay… I’m just surprised that my darling, sweet, naïve little Elizabeth would speak of such things!” You leered at her playfully.

“Well, maybe I’m not as innocent of a ‘Lamb’ that this city thinks I am.” She joked back haughtily, causing you to both giggle.

Elizabeth then pulled another picture of your night table, this one of you with all your co-workers in front of the Fellow Traveler, “Who are all these people?” She asked with a smile.

“Those are my co-workers,” you smiled, “Some of them are a little rough around the edges, but all of them are great people.”

“Tell me about them,” Elizabeth jubilantly said, her smile continuing to grow, “Tell me everything, about everyone! I want to hear all of it!”

“Of course, I’d be happy too! Where should I begin,” you responded with a laugh, over joyed to be sharing these bits of your life with your dearest friend.

~

Somewhere in the middle of talking to Elizabeth, she had drifted off into a deep sleep, leaving an anxious you all alone in your apartment with Booker.

After you had tucked in Elizabeth and turned off the light, you lingered behind your closed bedroom doors for a bit, working up the nerve to exit the room and face the person who continued to allude and excite you, all on your lonesome.

With a deep breath, you grasped the door handle tightly, giving it an agonizingly slow turn, ‘Please let this go easily… Or let him be asleep, that’s even better.’ 

“Fucking shit!” You heard a deep voice curse from the other room as your door creaked all the way open, dashing your hopes of avoiding a lone encounter.

You slowly padded through the hall, and peeked your head around the corner to find Booker slumped on your couch, clutching his heavily bleeding right hand with a look of pain smeared on his face.

“Oh my God, are you alright?” You stepped into the living room hurriedly, concern driving you.

Booker looked up, his eyes large in surprise, “Sorry, I just wanted to see how it was healing but I ended up bleeding on your floor.”

“That’s quite alright,” you insisted, “It’s easy to wipe up, and it shouldn’t stain if it’s taken care of promptly. And besides, I’ll be leaving here anyway, right,” your voice died out a bit as you said the words, forcing yourself to realize that you would never ever be back in this apartment again. Even if you didn’t make it out of the city, there is no way you’d ever be able to go back to life as it was. This place you worked so hard to make your own would be abandoned; another pained reminder of your life in Columbia. You swallowed hard before continuing, “I’ll go get some towels and bandages, you sit tight.”

You hustled to the bathroom, scooping up all the supplies you needed in your arms before headed back to Booker. After tossing a towel lightly to the floor to catch his falling blood, you took a seat on his immediate right, laying the supplies out in your lap as your bottom touched the couch.

“What happened,” You asked quietly as you glanced at his hand. The wound looked gnarly and deep, and staring at it made you a little uneasy. Blood wasn’t really a bother to you, but dealing with peoples open wounds was another story. 

“I got stabbed while I was trying to get tickets for the airship,” he sighed deeply, “stupid mistake, really. I should have seen it coming.”

“Do you mind if I take a look at it?” You asked.

“Uh, sure. “ He responded, holding his hand out closer to you.

You scooted tentatively closer to Booker so as you were nearly touching, and gingerly reached out to investigate the damage.

“This looks really bad,” you spoke with concern, trying the best to mask your horror as you continued to stare into the ripped and mutilate flesh, “I can only imagine how bad this must hurt…”

“I’m used to it, by now,” Booker spoke softly, the tone of his voice indicating his words held a painful truth to them. You hoped he didn’t see the shiver that passed through your body at the sound of his deep voice so close.

“Well, I’m no nurse, but I’d say this really needs some stitches,” you sighed defeated, “unfortunately, all I have is some alcohol and bandages…”

Booker snorted, “Sounds like it should work better than a dirty piece of fabric, right?”

You smiled, “I suppose so.”

You then grabbed one of your towels and proceeded to botch it with alcohol, “Mister Dewitt, I apologize, but this is going to hurt pretty badly. Are you ready?”

He nodded his okay, and you once again gently took his hand, and proceeded to dab it clean with the alcohol. You felt Booker twitch on initial impact, but other than that, he made no sounds or acts of discomfort. You glanced up at him intermittently, your eyes too nervous to dwell on his stern face for long. He stayed fixed on watching your hands work, and his stormy eyes for a moment showed signs of peace, something you felt a man like Booker had little of. You smiled a bit as you focused completely back down to his hand. Feeling that his palm looked well enough cared for, you turned his hand over to take care of the other side.

Your eyes grew wide as they befell his skin. Even with his hand being a torn, bloody, mess, what you saw was impossible to miss. Dead in the center of his hand, two large initials had been carved. You stared hard at the A and the D, not truly believing your eyes. 

‘AD... That’s the sign of the False Shepherd!’

“Is everything alright?”

Your eyes darted up to Booker's, and you noted that the peaceful air to them had completely diminished. 

“Oh… I’m sorry. It’s just, I wasn’t expecting to find scars like this, forgive me.”

Booker remained silent, which you took as a cue to not bring it up again. You quickly set to work finishing what you had started, and grabbed the bandages to begin wrapping the wound up, ‘The False Shepherd… This man is the False Shepherd! But how can that be?! Isn’t that all just hysterical, hyper-religious nonsense,’ you glanced up at Booker once more, ‘But then again… Who else would be able to free Elizabeth? And who else would have scars like this? My mother was right… Comstock was right!’

“… Are you giving me looks like that because these are the markings of the supposed ‘False Shepherd?”

You faltered at Bookers words, and you slowly lifted your gaze to face him, “… So it’s true then? You really are the false shepherd?” You asked in a hushed tone.

“Damned if I know,” Booker scoffed, “come to a city I never even knew existed for a job, and next thing I know people are after my head for having this scar on my hand. None of it makes any damn sense…”

“To be honest, I thought it all was a myth,” you spoke, finishing up your wrapping, “A lie made up by the Prophet to scare people and keep them in line… But seeing this mark on your hand is hard to ignore. How exactly did he know you were coming…?”

Booker gave a small sneer, “Maybe he’s a better Prophet than you take him for?”

You shot a half smile back as you finished his hand, “Don’t tell me you’re secretly a Comstock follower too, Mister Dewitt.”

Booker snorted, “Any man who locks his daughter away in a tower her whole life, only to be constantly watched, observed, and recorded is no man I’d ever want any allegiance with.”

You stopped cold at his words, “… What do you mean by constantly watched and recorded?”

Booker looked confused, “Weren’t you aware? The whole bottom half of that tower was all some kind of messed up lab that had record of every aspect of that girl’s life, starting from early childhood. There were viewing windows in each room for people to watch her, and all sorts ‘a recording devices stalking her every movement,” Booker noted the horrified expression on your face, and immediately softened his voice, “… Shit, you really didn’t know, did you?”

“… When we were little, we expected it. We figured somehow they had to be monitoring us. Having me interact with Elizabeth was an experiment after all,” You spoke, trying to level the angry and shocked quiver in your voice, “But as we grew older, we figured they had long given up keeping an eye on us… But knowing now that they always had a watch on her, that she never truly had any moment of privacy… It makes me sick.”

“…I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, and set back to work, “Don’t be. That just fuels me more to get the hell out of here… There you go, Mister Dewitt. Not the best medical care in the world, but it should get you through.”

“Much appreciated,” he responded as he pulled his hand away, twisting it this way and that, and clenching and unclenching his fist, “For not knowing what you were doing, I’d say you did a pretty bang up job.”

You smiled at his compliment, “Thanks. I’ve had a lot of practice patching up Elizabeth when we were younger.”

“So… You really were the girls only connection to the outside world weren’t you?”

You nodded, “Yes. As I stated, it all just started out as an experiment. ‘See how the Lamb takes to another human being’, I guess. I’m quite sure no one expected it to end up like it did, and quite honestly, I think several people were hoping that it would fail... Those bastard scientists wouldn’t have ever dreamed we’d be as close as we are now.”

“But why you,” Booker asked, “Why of all people did they choose you to visit the girl?”

You remained quiet for a while as you thought out your answer, “Well… I guess it’s because I was disposable. At the time, no one in Columbia really cared for me, save for my Mother. If anything went wrong… if I ended up dying… Well, it would be no big deal. Columbia could have brushed it off easily, or better yet, they would have made it seem like I was some kind of heathen that the Lamb smite-d for the good of the city. Or maybe they would have just made it look like I never existed at all,” though this was all something you had figured it out long ago, that didn’t make it hurt any less as you explained it to Booker, “So it’s a good thing we became friends, huh? The two saddest girls in Columbia got to look out for each other.”

Booker stared at you hard, his eyes holding a twinge of pain in them, “The more I hear you speak, the more I understand your desire to get outta this floating trash heap. I’ll-“ He paused for a second, seeming to struggle with what to say next, “… I’ll do my best to protect you both and get you out. No one’s deserved the life you girls have lived.”

You looked at him kindly, “Thank you, I’ll do my best not to hold you down.”

A silence followed your words that left you feeling a bit awkward. Should you say something else? Should you get up and leave? You slyly glanced over at man, and realized that even though you had finished fixing him up a few moments ago, neither of you had moved from your proximities. In fact, you noted that your knee was touching him, meaning you had at some point pulled yourself closer to him… Or had he pulled himself closer to you? A deep blush crept on your face as you felt a pleasant sort of burning sensation emanating from where you were touching. You knew you should scoot over and give him some space, but frankly, you didn’t want to. Just the slight touch of your knees was enough to fill you with a giddy excitement, and feeling that in such a stressful time was liberating, to say the least.

“Uh… Sorry about taking these clothes. It’s just that mine were still wet from you washing them, and these were the only ones I saw that would even slightly fit me…”

Booker's sudden words made you realize that you had in fact forgot to supply him with something to wear after his shower (a stupid mistake that made your blush grow more intense), and that because of that, the poor man had to slink out of your bathroom (in nothing more than a towel) and into the linens room to retrieve some clothing. You feverishly tried to push the image of you accidentally stumbling into a naked Booker out of your head as you hurriedly spoke.

“Oh, forgive me, I meant to leave you something to wear,” you spoke as calmly as you could as the racy thoughts continued to assault you, “but I’m glad you found some of Seamus’ clothes to put on while yours dry.”

“Seamus?” He questioned, cocking his eyebrow at you questioningly. 

“Yes… The surly man who was my singing partner, remember?”

Booker's face instantly clouded over with recognition, “Oh. Him.” He bitterly spoke.

“Yes,” you sighed, “him. I apologize for his actions, by the way. Sometimes he can be a little… Hard to handle, I guess you could say. Really, he had no reason to treat you as rude as he did, and I truly am deeply sorry for that.”

“Eh, don’t be sorry. Wasn’t your fault the prick can’t take a compliment…. Pardon my brashness.” He waved his hands at your nervously, as if in hopes of dispelling his negative comment.

You smiled, “No, it is okay. Trust me, I’ve been with him a long time, I’m well aware of just what a jerk he can be.” 

Things quieted down for a few more moments as Booker started to fidget in his seat, and pick at his newly wrapped hand. You watched as he opened his mouth a few times to speak, only to shut his lips in a tight frown. Finally, after what appeared to be heavy consideration, he spoke.

“… He doesn’t hurt you, does he?”

The question, as well as the total sincerity and concern that emanated from Booker’s voice, took you off guard. You stared over at him to see that he had focused his full attention down at his hands, as if he were embarrassed by what he just said.

“No… No, he doesn’t hurt me.” You spoke softly. Saying it aloud caused a pain to rise in your chest, as you realized just how much of a lie those words really were.

“That’s good… Look, this may not be my place to say, but life is too short to spend it on people who are just there to use you and treat you like dirt. It’d be a shame to see someone like you get hurt by the likes of him.”

You nodded, feeling ashamed. You looked away so you wouldn’t have to stare into Booker’s deep eyes. The troubled look you found in them only made you feel worse.

More awkward silence passed before Booker once again spoke up, “Well, hopefully this Seamus guy isn’t too attached to these clothes, because I’m pretty sure I’ve stretched them out to an unfixable state.”

You looked back over at Booker and stifled a small laugh as you realized just how comical he looked. The sleeves fell a few inches above his wrists, and the shirts buttons were pulled so taut you were worried they might burst at any moment. As for his pants, it looked as if he were getting ready for a flood.

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” you spoke with a smile, “the man actually has more clothes than I do. He won’t miss one pair of pants and shirt at all.”  
Booker gave a small smile back, “That figures. From what I saw the guy seems pretty focused on his appearance. Well that, and making himself seem like a tough guy.”

“There you have it, Seamus in a nutshell,” You said with a yawn, pulling yourself slowly off the couch, “Well, I believe it is WAY past bedtime. We need to get all the rest we can for our big adventure tomorrow, right?”

Booker nodded, the seriousness coming back to his face full force, “We need to leave early tomorrow, early enough so that those dingus police officers won’t find out about their friend until we are long gone.”

You nodded as well, “Understood, I’ll set my alarm clock accordingly… Is there anything I can get you before bed Mister Dewitt? There is a pillow you can use on the couch. It seems rather hot to be using a blanket, but I will fetch you one if you like?”

He shook his head, “Nah, I’m alright. You have already done quite enough, miss (Name).”

You blushed hearing your name on his lips, “It’s my pleasure, Mister Dewitt.”

“Call me Booker.”

You smiled one last time before making your way back to your room, “Goodnight, Booker.”

“Hey… just one more thing.”

His stern tone stopped you dead in your tracks, “… Yes?”

“… Do I… I mean… have I met you before?”

Your heart picked up pace, “… Pardon me?”

“Well, I dunno, you just seem really familiar to me for some reason,” he mumbled, his eyes glancing everywhere but you while he slowly ran a hand through his mussed hair, “I just thought maybe we’d run into each other before…”

You were stunned, and your features showed it. ‘Is this for real,’ your mind raced, ‘he feels like he’s met me before, just as I feel as if I know him… But it’s impossible! It just can’t be.”

You shook your head lightly to dispel your surprise, “… Um, no. I’m certain we have never met, Booker. That is unless you’ve traveled to Columbia before?”

He smirked sheepishly, “Ah, your right. Sorry, must have you confused for someone else. Anyway, sleep tight, (Name).”

“You do the same.”

As you entered your room and quietly got changed to your sleep wear, a giddy smile crept on your face and never left. You softly crawled into bed with Elizabeth, and nestled beside her, your smile only growing as she scooted closer and latched onto you snuggly in her sleep.

As you drifted off into sleep, you wished that this night could never end. That you could freeze time right at that moment of bliss where everyone was safe, and everything was okay, and the future was nothing but hopeful and bright.

~

“(Name)… (Name)… Come on, wake up sleepy head! It’s time to get a move on!”

You woke in a haze to Elizabeth gently shaking and calling out to you. You rubbed your tired eyes, glancing out the window to see that the sun had yet to begin to rise.

“We’re leaving right now,” you said with a yawn, “the sun isn’t even out yet.”

“Do you really want to stay here any longer than we already have with Paris right around the corner?” She questioned sternly, placing her hands on her hips.

“… True,” you responded, throwing off the covers and swinging your feet to the side of the bed, “Let’s get out of here.”

She smiled at you whilst grabbing your hand and giving it a rough tug, “Today is the start of a new chapter in our lives, (Name),” once you were standing, she shoved some hastily made breakfast your way, a huge (yet nervous) smile on her face, “Are you ready?”

You lifted a piece of slightly burned toast, and took a large bite off it before flashing her a equally nervous smile.

“I’ve been ready since I got here! Goodbye Columbia, hello Paris!”

Neither you nor Elizabeth could contain your excitement as you burst into a happy laughter, hurriedly preparing yourself for the adventure that awaited you.

~

A/N: Awww yay! Happy adventures! Everything is going to be good, and fun, and AWESOME (hehehehjustkidingyouaregoingtocryalotandbesadyaybioshock)!

Anyway, there you have it. You convinced Booker to bring you, you got to hang with Liz, AND you had some private time with Mister Dewitt. Hell yeah, you go girl! And Seamus, PASHAW, who gives a darn about that guy, amitrite? But trust me; it isn’t the end of that little booger. Also, I think I have succeeded in bringing him to new slime levels in this chapter, go me (I truly am sorry, everyone)!!!

Also, I just really wanted to have Booker saying dingus, so it happened. Ah, the power of being a fanfiction writer! >:D

Anyway, I hope you all immensely enjoyed this chapter! I love you all, and thank you so much for reading and your constant support! You are all simply and truly marvelously wonderful, and as usual, I can’t tell you that enough! Expect the next chapter sometime after this month! Happy Halloween in the meantime and stay tuned for more! :D THANK YOU!!!!


	20. The Journey Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First stop Shock Jockey, second stop Paris!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Saunters on to the stage* everyone hello! It is I, Mothra! Your author! Finally back from my travels to grace you with-
> 
> Crowd: “GET ON WITH IT.”
> 
> Sheesh! OK! (Alright, silliness aside…) Hey everyone! First and foremost, SORRY I HAVE BEEN GONE SO LONG! It feels like it’s been forever since I logged in here, and I do apologize! Life was hella busy crazy there for a bit, but now I am back and writing, so heck yeah for that!
> 
> Anyway, Bioshock Infinite’s gameplay is going to really start taking effect now as you enter the storyline of the game! I’ve written some of my first fighty-type scenes here, which I’m really not used to writing at all… So let me know what you think! I’m trying hard to keep them action-y and cool! ;D
> 
> Other than that, check out my profile page when you get the chance. I may or may not have made some sweet header graphics for all my stories to help categorize them for when I tell you guys about updates and stuff! I’m also hoping to keep my profile much more up to date then I have been so if you are ever interested in the progress of something, that will be the place to go! By the way, I may or may not have made those headers instead of working on fanfics… Forgive me, I was in a bit of a slump. :P
> 
> And as always: THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED AWESOMNESS AND GREATNESS IT IS A TOTAL HONOR TO BE BRINGING YOU JOY THROUGH MY FANFIC! You guys are the greatest!!!
> 
> Read on, little moths! :D

“…Hello?”

A gentle voice danced in his ear, coaxing him out of the slumber he had fallen into. His eyes fluttered open slowly, his vision hazy from a mixture of sleep and the nearly blinding ray of sunshine peeping through the window he was beside. He lifted his heavy arm to shield his view, and with a quick glance to his left, squinting through his fingers, he saw the outline of a person standing before a shelf of neatly lined books.

“Are you feeling alright,” the voice came again, confirming it was from the person he could just barely make out. 

Her voice was calm and pleasant, with just a twinge of worry to it. His heart’s pace began to quicken upon hearing her speak again, and the sound of it brought Booker back to earth. He straightened himself abruptly, and wiped the remnants of sleep from his face. He turned his attention back towards the girl with the lovely voice, a small blush splayed across his tanned cheeks.

“Yeah, I-I’m OK,” he unwillingly stuttered, and cleared his throat a bit before continuing, “Sorry I fell asleep here. I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently, and then I found this place and thought I’d rest for a bit, and I suppose my tiredness just got the better of me.” He rambled a little too quickly, unsure as to why he was so nervous.

A sweet laugh came from the girl’s direction, as he glanced up to see her walk towards him. The closer she got, the more of her he could see, first just her shoes, than her light (color) dress, followed by her arms which were lovingly cradling worn book to her chest. After a few short steps she was nearly an arm’s length away, yet her face was still clouded over with shadows. He strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of her, when she spoke once more.

“That’s quite alright; it’s easy to fall asleep in places like this. In fact, I’ve fallen asleep MANY a time in that exact chair. It’s quite comfy, isn’t it,” Booker nodded sheepishly, and even in the shadows, he could tell she smiling, “May I ask you your name?”

“Booker Dewitt,” he inwardly cursed himself as he answered a little too brashly, “how about you?”

She giggled lightly, “Booker… What a wonderfully fitting name,” her words fueled the butterflies in his stomach to multiple, as a delicate hand crept towards him in offering, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Booker. You can call me-“

~

CLANG

Booker bolted upright; on high alert after being ripped abruptly from his dream world by a loud mystery noise. Groggily, he whipped his head around in confusion, his eyes meeting with unfamiliar surroundings.

“Darn it,” he heard a familiar voice quietly curse from the next room over, “why does she have to stuff her cabinets so full?!”

Hearing Elizabeth’s voice brought him back to earth as he recalled exactly what was going on; Columbia, Elizabeth, (Name)’s apartment… Yeah, today was the day he was to bring Elizabeth to New York and get his money. How could he possibly forget that? He sighed, and rubbed his still very tired eyes, and in doing so, also wiped away his last fragmented thoughts of that bizarre (albeit, enjoyable) dream he just had…

He pushed himself roughly off the couch he had slept upon and cringed as his whole body cried out in disagreement. He had worked himself a little too hard yesterday, and every muscle and bone in his body wasn’t being shy in reminding him of that. Also, on top of it, he had a hell of a time getting to sleep last night. Not that he was really surprised however; every thought in his head seemed a troubled one, and they refused to stop screaming away through the night. So, when he was FINALLY able to get some shut eye, it figures that the girl had to go and bang around in the kitchen and wake him up. He sighed with irritation as he shuffled his way to the kitchen entrance.

“…What the hell are you doing?” He called out as his eyes fell upon Elizabeth- still in her sleepwear, crouched down on the floor, digging through a small pile of various pots and pans. With a quick glance around the kitchen, he also saw the counter tops and tables were littered with various food, ingredients, and supplies.

Elizabeth jerked around, her features in a state of mild shock upon seeing Booker.

“Oh no, did I wake you?!” She spoke quietly, her shock turning to dismay.

“Me and half of Columbia.” He grumbled, frowning at the mess before him.

“Oh no, I wanted this to be a surprise,” she whined, “… Did (Name) hear?! She isn’t awake, is she?”

Booker glanced behind him at the darkened, void hall, “… Doesn’t seem like it, though I don’t see how.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, “Good. At least it will still be sort of a surprise then,” she glanced up at Booker, a large smile on her face, “And now you can help me, so I guess things will work out better than expected!”

“Hold on, help you do what, exactly?” He spoke sternly, glancing over at the clock reading 4:30am. It was nearing time for you to split.

“Help me make breakfast, of course,” she spoke matter-of-factly as she set back to work, “I was hoping it’d be a surprise for not just (Name), but you as well… I mean, I don’t have any money, nor do I really have much of anything else to offer…,” she stopped for a moment, and turned to look at Booker, her eyes serious and heart felt, “But I want to do what I can to pay you back for taking us to Paris.”

Her words hit Booker hard, as a fierce stab of guilt assaulted his heart. He averted his eyes from the girl, ‘Dammit, don’t say things like that. This job is already hard enough as is.’

“You don’t have to do anything,” he mumbled, trying to fight back the massive wave of self-reproach over tricking not just one, but two completely innocent girls, “Really.”

Elizabeth smirked, “You can say that all you want, Mister Dewitt, but payback is still going to happen either way. Now… would you mind helping me out a bit? Believe it or not, I’m actually not all that great at cooking… And well, to be quite honest, I kind of have no idea what I’m doing right now.”

With a sigh and smirk, Booker stepped into the kitchen and began to make his way towards Elizabeth’s mess, “Really? I couldn’t tell. Come on, let’s make this quick, we gotta get a move on.”

Seeing the joyous glow on Elizabeth’s face when he accepted her proposal added on to his pain, ‘Don’t get attached,’ he had to remind himself, ‘She’s just another part of the job.’

~

After you had eaten and gotten dressed, you proceeded to make you way to the living room, where you met up with a ready-to-go Booker and Elizabeth.

“(Name),” Elizabeth called out to you cheerfully as she made her way over to you, “so, what’d you think of breakfast? Did you enjoy it? Tell the truth!”

You smiled at your friend as you fiddled with a very small travel bag attached to your side, which you had filled with the money you had been saving from work, as well as a few first aid things, and the whistle that Rosalind had given you so long ago, “Well, the toast was rather charred.”

“That was Elizabeth,” Booker responded coolly, which garnered a pout from Elizabeth.

“And the eggs were incredibly chewy.” You continued on, as you went through your head to make sure you had everything you needed and could carry to make it out of Columbia.

“HA, those were Mister Dewitt’s!” Elizabeth exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest saucily.

You laughed, “But, those things aside, it was the best breakfast I’ve ever had.”

Elizabeth beamed, “Way to see the bright side of things! Once we get settled in Paris, you’ll have to teach me to be a better cook!”

“Alright, it’s time to get a move on,” Booker intervened, continually glancing through your window to the streets of Columbia below, keeping a vigilant watch that no one was coming your way, “I’d rather not be here when the troops come to check on the night watch. Are you both ready?”

Elizabeth nodded, “Of course,” she then looked your way with an apprehensive smile, “This is it…”

You returned the nervous smile, “Yeah… I can hardly believe it…”

“Alright, let’s go,” Booker proceeded to walk from the window over to your front door, and with a swift motion, swung it open and nodded with his head for you and Elizabeth to pass through. You followed behind your friend as she past the threshold, your heart beating wildly during the first steps of your adventure. You had no idea what awaited you in these next few hours and days, but even with all the fear you harbored in your chest, the excitement and joy were far greater. Your life had never been better on course than this exact moment. Standing between Elizabeth and Booker… Everything felt right. Everything was perfect. You didn’t even try to contain the stupidly happy smile that engulfed your face.

As you were following along with your rag tag team in the hallway, a thought suddenly dawned on you.

“Wait,” you stopped suddenly, causing Booker and Elizabeth to follow suit, “Hold on, I forgot something! I’ll be right back!”

“(Name),” you heard Booker groan, as you hustled back to your old apartment, “We really don’t have the time.”

“I know, it’ll be quick!” You called as you passed through your door way once more, bee lining it to your bedroom where you scooped your beloved father’s book from your side table.

As you exited your bed room, you took a brief moment to be in your apartment one last time. Though you didn’t consider Columbia your home, this place that you worked hard to get on your own, was. You let a tear fall from your eyes as you gingerly placed your hand on the wall.

“Goodbye, dear home,” you sadly smiled, “I hope that the next person to live in you cares for you as much as I did.”

Not wanting to linger any longer, you wiped your eyes, and hurriedly crossed through the door for the final time.

~

“That WAS quick,” Elizabeth called out as she saw you bustling back their way, “What did you forget?”

You held up the book for her to see, and her eyes grew wide, “How could you have forgotten that?! Geez, we BOTH would have been heartbroken if that got left behind in Columbia!”

You chortled at Elizabeth’s response, and then proceeded to turn to Booker so you could apologize for holding them up. When your eyes met his face, however, you were surprised to see the intense look of puzzlement that befell his features as he stared fixedly at the book in your hands.

“Um… Sorry for holding us up,” you spoke to him quietly, “… Is everything alright?”

His eyes snapped to yours quickly, “Uh, yeah, sorry. It’s just that I think I’ve read that book before, is all,” he passed quickly by you, and continued to trudge on, “Come on, we’ve wasted enough time.”

Your eyes glanced over at Elizabeth as she gave you a brief shrug before following behind Booker. It was your turn for your face to be riddled with puzzlement as you carried on behind Elizabeth.

‘How can he have read this book,’ You thought to yourself, your eyes fixed on Booker’s back, ‘My father bound this book in a cover of his own making, it is decorated with his own original artwork. AND there is no title or author on the outside… This book is by all means one of a kind. I just don’t understand. How could he confuse this for something he has read?’

~

Getting to Soldier’s Field was going surprisingly easy as you, Booker, and Elizabeth were able to slip through the shadows of the still awakening area. Sleepy shop keeps and grumpy citizens on their way to their early morning shifts walked past you without as much as a glance. You were even able to slip past police men with relative ease to travel through all the hidden paths you knew of. You weren’t one to gloat, but you couldn’t help but step with pride over just how easily you were leading your little group along.

Eventually, you reached the final elevator you needed to take to get to your destination. At this point, the sun was now fully up, the city was becoming much livelier, and announcements were beginning to be broadcast telling people to keeping watch for the ‘False Shepherd’. After you all piled into the elevator and the doors closed you in, you all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Though you were sure at some point you’d run into an altercation or two, you wanted to avoid them for as long as you could.

“You really do know your way around this city,” Booker called out to you, “I’m sure we’d have been targeted for sure without your fancy foot work.”

You smiled at his compliment, “Thank you, I-“

Your speaking was interrupted unexpectedly as the elevator grinded to a violent, shuddering stop. You worriedly grabbed Elizabeth’s arm as the light dimmed above you.

“What the hell?!” Booker cursed.

“Is something wrong?!” Elizabeth questioned, her hand’s in turn clutching to you.

Booker sighed, and turned his attentions towards the breaker box, “Well, nothin’ I can’t fix.”

As he broke open the breaker plate and began to fiddle around, a hurried buzzing noise came to your attention. Your eyes traveled from Booker to Elizabeth, who was anxiously backing away from the noisy insect.

“UGH, it’s a bee,” she exclaimed, a heavy frown set on her face, “I-I HATE these things!”

“Ugh geez, wouldya just kill it already?” Booker called over his shoulder in annoyance, still engulfed with getting the lift back in working order.

“Or just leave it alone,” you added in, “I’m sure Booker will have us back in motion in no time and then we can get out of here. If you don’t bother it, it’s not going to bother you.”

“Yeah right, like I’m going to do either of those options! It’ll sting me,” she huffed, but then her face sharply took on a mischievous turn, as she tilted her head towards you with a wink, “I have a better idea.”

You were puzzled for a moment until you saw it out of the corner of your eye; a small, gray floating window hovering in front of the Songbird poster that hung behind you. You quickly shook your head, and opened your mouth to object, but it was too late. Elizabeth had already set to work pulling it into existence.

“What are you doing?!” Booker questioned, bolting quickly to his feet. In his eyes, you saw a shimmer of fear, which caused your heart to sink. Surely the man who saved Elizabeth didn’t see her as a monster too, did he?

“I’m opening a tear,” Elizabeth gave a final grunt, bringing a beautiful, sunny overlook (complete with a window sill of roses) to the cramped, dingy elevator.

“SHIT,” Booker exclaimed, pointing to the scene incredulously, “What… is that?”

“It’s a tear,” Elizabeth stated matter-of-factly, still a little out of breath, “I used to open them all the time in my tower.”

“What is a tear?!” His voice boomed sternly.

“It’s like uh… a window! A window to another world! Most of the time they are dull as dishwater; a different colored towel, or tea instead of coffee… But sometimes… sometimes I see something amazing and I pull it through,” Elizabeth then walked over to the flower bed, and carefully plucked off two roses, placing one in her hair and the other she held out to you, “Right, (name)?”

Hearing your name startled you a bit as you glanced from your friend, to Booker, who looked at you expectantly for an explanation. You took the rose timidly; nervous of how Booker would react to seeing Elizabeth’s powers head on, “… It’s true. The first time she showed me this power, she pulled a tear open that showed a whole parade taking place. And another time, we opened one to see a litter of kittens being born… What can be seen varies greatly tear to tear.”

“Damn,” Booker spoke, and your heart eased up as a much more collected look befell his features, “I don’t suppose you got an airship in there?”

Elizabeth shook her head with a smile, “I don’t think so.”

As Elizabeth and Booker spoke, very faintly, you thought you could hear a foreign noise coming from the tear. You looked behind you out into the vast blue skies, and in the distance, your eyes befell something that seemed to be weaving about the clouds. 

“I think I see something,” you spoke, garnering the two’s attention. You leaned further into the tear to get a better view, when once again the sound rang out. This time however, it was much clearer, and you were able to recognize it instantly.

“Songbird!” You called out to Elizabeth, as you backed up horrified, your eyes glued to his glowing red ones as he fully came into view and headed straight towards you.

“Close it” Booker spoke, taking a brisk step forward and latching his hand to your shoulder, tugging you back quickly.

“I’m trying!!!” Elizabeth exclaimed, franticly working with all her might to shut it.

“CLOSE IT,” Booker screamed again, his grip grew so tight it caused you to wince.

Just as Songbird was upon you, with a fell swoop, Elizabeth shut off the tear, returning the flowered overlook to its rightful Songbird poster. Booker’s hand fell limply from your shoulder as you all breathed heavily in relief, that unexpected encounter leaving the lot of you badly shaken. You made your way to Elizabeth, and brought her into your arms in a loose hug. You could feel her shiver against you.

The elevator came to its destination with a small squeak, and as its doors finally opened, you and Elizabeth were the first to spill out.

“I don’t really understand what I just saw back there, but it sure as hell looks like a shortcut to gettin’ us killed!” Booker’s voice barked sharply at your younger friend.

You turned quickly to the man, angered by the bite in his voice. You went to speak up in Elizabeth’s defense, when she beat you to it.

“…But I can help,” she called out hopefully.

“I can handle whatever comes along, trust me.”

“Have it your way, I suppose.” Elizabeth coolly replied as she pushed past you further into Soldier’s Field. You could tell she was hurt by Booker’s words, and you felt she had every right to be. She just wanted to show Booker she could be of use, afterall. You went to follow behind her, when Booker’s voice called out to you.

“You okay,” he called, his voice regaining its calm tone.

“I’m fine,” you roughly called back, riled by how he just spoke to Elizabeth, “But I suggest you be a bit kinder to Elizabeth, Mister Dewitt. Those tears just may end up being the thing to save you in a pinch.”

You proceeded onward briskly, passing up Booker without a second glance, and headed down a small flight of stairs on your way to Elizabeth. You approached her quietly from behind as she was watching a Motorized Patriot behind a glass case going about one of his many Columbian spiels. She seemed very intrigued by the robot, and oblivious to anything other than what he was saying. She jumped a bit when you spoke.

“Quite something, isn’t it?” You asked, a small smile on your face as you moved up to her, stopping when you were directly beside her.

“Oh, yeah,” she responded, “I was just thinking that they are actually kind of scary… What are they, exactly?”

“Motorized Patriots!” You responded with a grand hand gesture, your voice mocking in tone, “Have you ever wanted the history of Columbia told to you by one of the Founding Father’s himself? Well, today must be your lucky day, because now you can!!! These patriots will drone on and on and on until you know everything about anything in our fair city” Elizabeth laughed at your antics, and you were happy to see her smile, “Yeah… They are rather scary. They were even scarier when they were walking around Columbia as tour guides.”

“Those things used to be tour guides?” Booker pitched in, coming up behind you and Elizabeth.

You nodded, “You heard right. Back a few years ago this fella would escort you around the city, telling you all about its perfect, white-washed, history. I was told they stopped being tour guides when Columbia seceded from the union, but honestly, I think they just horrified everyone so much that they had to end it. That or they accidentally crushed too many toes. Regardless, I am glad they live exclusively behind glass now.”

Booker snorted, “You and me both. Come on, I’ve heard enough of Washington’s history lesson, time to get a move on.”

You and Elizabeth nodded, and followed close behind as Booker led the way.

~

It wasn’t too much longer before your group intercepted its first armed threat.

“There doesn’t appear to be that many of them,” Booker whispered to you and Elizabeth while peaking behind a pile of boxes you were using as cover, “It shouldn’t be that hard to take care of ‘um and move on… You ready?”

You looked into his serious light green orbs and nodded briskly. You weren’t sure you were quite ready to ‘take care’ of another human being yet, but you would do what you could to help Booker.

Elizabeth gently touched your elbow from behind you, “You two don’t worry about me, I’m good at protecting myself,” she smiled reassuringly, “I’ll also do my best to supply you with ammo and anything else you may need.”

You smiled quickly at your friend, as Booker shoved a hand gun your way. You apprehensively wrapped your hand around it, before again looking into his eyes.

“Alright then, I’ll follow your lead.” 

And with those words from you, he began his assault. Your eyes followed him closely as he shot into the small crowd of soldiers, taking a few out and garnering the rest attentions. Skillfully he mowed them down, one by one. You gawked at him as he continued to fight; he was better than you could have imagined. The way he moved and his expertise with his gun… Though his acts weren’t what you would deem ‘beautiful’, seeing him move so fluidly and skillfully certainly was. You heart started to pick up pace the more you watched him. For as nervous as you were, at that moment, you couldn’t help but be overcome with the excitement of it all.

“(NAME), WATCH OUT!!!”

At the sound of Elizabeth’s voice you swiveled around, coming face to face with a heavily armed soldier, ready to strike you with the butt of his gun. You were able to move out of the way quickly, but in your haste to escape his blow, your gun fell from your grasp and skittered out of your reach. At the realization of this, your eyes widened in horror. Your gaze shifted back to your attacker, whose gun stood at the ready in his hands, and his face was plastered with a cruel smirk. Your body broke out in a cold sweat as you saw his grip tighten on the trigger, ‘No, not this soon… I can’t die yet! I can’t disappoint Elizabeth!!!’

You shut your eyes tightly and braced your body for the impact that would end it all. You strained your ears to listen for the sound of the gun over all the other fighting that was taking place, your body wracked with guilt over your complete lack of help during a fight. But as a few seconds past, you began to wonder what was going on, when unexpectedly, the sound of agonized screams came to your ear followed by… crows?

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see you attacker being assaulted by a horde of crows, who flapped around him dizzyingly, mercilessly pecking and ripping at his flesh. You sat in confusion, wondering why in the hell a bunch of birds would suddenly come out of nowhere to attack this guy.

“DON’T JUST SIT THERE, FINISH HIM!”

Booker’s harsh scream penetrated your ear, causing your eyes to flick towards him. Even from a ways away, you could see that his arm was covered in feathers, his fingers and nails had grown sharp, long, and black. In his other hand, a bottle of Murder of Crows hung loosely. You shivered as you made eye contact with him. You had never actually seen someone use a Vigor in battle before.

Your mind raced to process all that was going on around you, when quite literally out of blue, a figure appeared behind Booker. Draped head to toe in black, he was wearing long robes that obscured much of his face a body, but judging by the look of his garb and the large coffin he toted on his back, you knew he had to be part of the Fraternal Order of the Raven; the disturbed worshipers of Lady Comstock whose goal was total racial purity. He stealthily continued his way toward the oblivious Booker, swords drawn, he was ready to pounce…

“BOOKER, BEHIND YOU!”

In the nick of time, Booker swiveled around, catching the man before he could do any major damage. But as you proceeded to watch, you grew horrified as you realized that not only was the Raven fast and merciless, he could also seemingly phase in and out of existence. You gritted your teeth in frustration and twisted your hands into tight balled fists. You had to do something to help; the Raven was wearing Booker down too quickly, and you weren’t sure how much more he could take.

“(Name)!”

You swiveled your head to the sound of Elizabeth’s voice and found her knelt beside the man who had attacked your moments before. Horribly gored by what the birds had done to him, you didn’t have to be a doctor to see that his life was coming to a quick end. Your face scrunched up in a look of disgust as your horrified eyes lingered on his tattered flesh. It took Elizabeth’s voice again to rip you from the sight.

“(NAME),” she called clearly, and as you turned your attentions back towards her, you could see your pistol was in her grasp, and she was offering it up to you, “you need to take this! Take it and help Booker!”

After another second of hesitation, you pulled yourself together, and grabbed the gun from Elizabeth’s hands.

You made your way closer to Booker and the Raven, your breathing growing heavier as you watched the situation grow worse. Booker was quite clearly running out of steam MUCH faster than the Raven was, and even as he scored a few good hits on the man, it wasn’t near the damage the Raven was managing to inflict on Booker. A nervous sweat engulfed your body as you tried desperately to sturdy the gun in your hand. You cursed to yourself quietly as you had to jerk this way and that to stay trained on your quickly moving target. This shot would not be easy to someone who was a trained professional, let alone you.

Suddenly Booker slumped, putting him in a position that made him incredibly vulnerable, causing a cold fear to grip at your heart. The Raven quickly caught on to his advantage and he slowed his moves to advance on the man, preparing for the final strike. You took it as a prime opportunity to attack.

You fired, and it ripped through the air, landing square in the Raven’s left calf. He buckled, and turned to you surprised, unaware that another threat remained on the field. Driven by pure fear, you shot again, this time higher. You saw that it hit him, but you couldn’t make out where. Regardless, he was clearly infuriated as he turned his full attentions towards you. Swiftly, he reached for a gun, and aimed it dead at you. Your body jolted as the sound of a shot assaulted your ears. However, you let out a shuddering sigh of relief as you saw the zealot crumble to the ground. A worn out, but otherwise alright, Booker standing tall behind the corpse, smoking gun in hand.

Booker smirked at you, “Not bad for your first fight.”

“Not bad?!” Elizabeth snorted from behind you, “(Name) just saved you!”

“Barely,” you added with a tired smile, “Turns out, fighting human beings is a lot harder than shooting at a still target, and a lot more terrifying. I’m not sure how you can do this for a living, Mister Dewitt.”

Booker shrugged, “You get used to it. Anyway, thanks for having my back. I’m glad we all made it out alright.” 

You looked to Elizabeth and joined her in smiling. Maybe Booker really was a trustworthy man after all…

“Well, time to move on,” Booker spoke again, but as he went to take a step forward, he gripped at his leg in pain, “Shit, damned Crow man got my leg good… Elizabeth, you didn’t happen to find any sort of medical kit nearby, did you?”

She shook her head, “Unfortunately, no. I looked everywhere, but came up with nothing.”

“Wait, let me check and see what I have,” you piped in, getting both their attentions as you rummaged through your small satchel, “Hm… It doesn’t really look like I have much that will help with larger injuries, but, I know where we could get some medicine,” you looked up at them and smiled, “The Fellow Traveler is right down this street a bit. It’s a restaurant I work at. Well, used to work at now, I suppose… Either way, we always keep well supplied first aid kits there for patrons or in case of an emergency in the kitchen.”

A smile bloomed on Elizabeth’s face, “You mean I actually get to see the place you work?!”

You nodded and smiled, “AND get to meet some of the people I work with!”

“What are we waiting for, let’s go!” She urged, shoving you along, a limping Booker carrying on behind you.

~

“No.”

After several minutes of walking, The Fellow Traveler came into sight, and as it crept closer and closer into view, your heart sunk further into the pits of dread.

“No, no, no…”

You split away from Elizabeth and Booker, first walking, and then trotting, to full on running. You stopped in the front entry way, not at all prepared for the horror that awaited you inside.

“GODDAMIT, NO!!!”

The Fellow Traveler had been totally ransacked; the doors were flung open, chairs were strewn about, food and drink were littered everywhere, tables were scattered… And there was blood everywhere. 

You took a few shaky steps inside, eyes darting quickly to find death at every turn, nearly all the bodies belonging to fallen Vox. You prayed hard, chanting please repeatedly until you discovered what you had feared you would.

Behind the bar laid the brutally slain corpses of Thomas, Laura, Marcus, and Wiley.

You fell to your knees beside them and let the tears fall freely.  
~

AN: Eh! Way to end on another cheery note, amirite? But hey, this was coming all along, unfortunately. Poor guys. 

And what about that dream? Who was that mysterious girl plaguing Booker’s thoughts, I wonder? And what about that whole book thing? HMMMM, SO MUCH MYSTERY. ;D

Also, I STILL can't get over the fact that motorized patriots used to be tour guides. Like what the actual hell? Who thought that was a good idea?!

Anyway, I hope each and every one of you thoroughly enjoyed this chapter! I’ll try to have the next one up much sooner than this one was put up! Thank you so much for reading and being marvelous! Stay tuned for the next chapter! :D


	21. Dangerous Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The familiar voice on the voxophone sent a shiver down your spine... What did his words mean?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all my little moth’s! It’s been so long!!! First off, let me apologize for my absence… I really, really, really wanted/tried hard to post a chapter of SCWAF before Christmas, but alas, with all the hectic-ness of the holidays… It just didn’t happen. Then after Christmas I was out of state visiting family, and then I got sick, and so on and so forth. So truly, I am sorry to keep you waiting this long! I was super pumped to deliver you guys a Christmas present and I failed. : ( Super lame on my end.
> 
> But nevertheless, here is the next chapter, primed and ready for your reading pleasure! Some sad stuff is about to go down… But also some exciting stuff. ;D And I know you guys have been missing Seamus like crazy (HA), so there may even be a few words from him in here as well. Who knows? 
> 
> As always, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE READS AND LOVE AND SUPPORT. You are all far too good to me! I really do feel awful about being so late to respond all the time, and you are all just so incredibly lovely and understanding. You guys keep me writing, and I appreciate you more than words can say. Really, you are my favorite member of the trash trio! *Dabs tear from eye with hanky*
> 
> (Also, I dedicate this chapter specifically to Ryzi because her fics are dynamite and she puts up with my shit GOREADHERSTUFFIF YOUHAVEN’TALREADY!!!)
> 
> Anyway, enough from me!!! Read on!

“I was supposed to come in to work today.” 

“(Name), please. You need to calm down.”

“Laura was off! She’s always off Saturdays! She must have come in to cover for me… Oh God… Oh my God!”

“(Name) stop it! None of this is your fault!”

Elizabeth and you went back and forth. You managed to slip words through violent sobs, while she soothingly tried to calm you down. The tears kept coming and coming, obscuring the view of your once very vibrant friends.

“Look, we shouldn’t stay here long…” Booker’s stern voice came to your ear.

“Booker! Please!” Elizabeth barked at him, shooting him a fierce glare as she warningly nodded her head your way.

He held up his hands in defense as his eyes met your own tear stained pair, “Look, I’m very sorry about your loss. It’s obvious these people meant a lot to you… But it’s also obvious from that encounter earlier this isn’t a safe place to hang around. We need to keep moving.”

“Look Mister Dewitt-“ Elizabeth began to speak, but you grabbed her arm lightly to cut her off.

“No… He’s right,” your voice quavered, “It isn’t safe here… We need to move on. I just… Just give me a few more minutes, please.” 

Elizabeth sad eyes lingered on you for a while, before with a silent small nod, she took the rose that still resided in her hair and quickly scooted her way towards your fallen friends. She gingerly placed the rose in Laura’s small hand, bringing your lifeless coworkers arms up so that they were lazily crossing her stomach. The way Elizabeth had positioned her made it look as if she was simply sleeping.

“I’m sorry I never got to meet you four,” she whispered thoughtfully to your fallen companions, “I’ve heard nothing but the best things about you, and was rather eager to make your acquaintances. You were all very brave, and much loved. May you eternally be at peace.”

Hearing Elizabeth’s words made your tears start up in full force again, and as she found her way back over to you, she gently brought you into a warm hug.

“You stay here and say your goodbyes,” Elizabeth whispered in your ear, “Booker and I will do some digging around to see if we can find anything useful, and then we’ll be back for you.”

All you could do was nod, and with another squeeze of your hand, Elizabeth joined Booker and left you alone.

~

“I got you a present.”

Elizabeth’s familiar voice behind you caused you to turn around, finding her swinging a small figure of Monument Tower in front of your face. You gave her a weak attempt at a smile.

“Really? Monument Tower is how you try and cheer me up?”

She shrugged, “It’s just that I feel cheated, honestly. It only seems fair that I get some of the cuts from these little guys, you know?”

You gave a half-hearted snort as she stepped up beside you, her eyes once again befalling your friends. Once Booker and Elizabeth had left, you managed to collect yourself enough to organize their corpses. A burial was out of the question, so you figured it was the least you could do. You propped all their bodies up in a sitting position, side by side, with their hands neatly folded in their laps. You placed your own rose in Thomas’ hands, and gave the other two boys flowers you hastily picked from outside. 

“They look at peace,” Elizabeth nudged you gently.

“I just wish I could do more for them, this is all too cruel…” You responded defeated, a deep frown once again engulfing your face.

You stood in silence for a moment before you realized that Booker was not in your presence.

“Where is Mister Dewitt?” You asked, glancing around to see if you could see him, “Did you two happen to find anything while you were out?”

“Oh, well, we did find-“ Elizabeth went to say, when Booker’s hollering voice cut her off.

“ELIZABETH, COME ‘ERE A SECOND.” He voice boomed from down the hall.

“COMING!” She hollered back, “You come too, (Name).”

You nodded and followed her as she made her way to the ladies restroom, where Booker stood staring puzzlingly at a Vox cipher that someone had hastily painted on the wall. 

“Hey,” he turned around to face the two of you, his eyes growing larger as he saw that you had joined Elizabeth. A small frown appeared on his lips, and his face slumped into a worried expression. Softly, he spoke.

“… You going to be alright?” He asked. The look in his eyes told you he was no stranger to losing friends to brutality.

You looked up at him with a tired half-smile, “I’ll be alright. They wouldn’t want me to linger on this. Thank you for asking, Booker.”

His eyes focused on you a bit longer (as if he was making sure you were really OK) until after several seconds he looked back to Elizabeth and pointed a thumb at the cipher on the wall. 

“I found this… thing,” he said with confusion, “I’m not sure, but I think it may have to do with that decoder we found across the way.”

“I think you are exactly right,” Elizabeth responded, pulling out a small decoder book from her pocket, “now let’s see here…”

You gently placed your hand on her book, and as she shot you a strange look, you smiled at her.

“Don’t bother. I know where this leads.”

Without another word, you lead them out of the ladies room, and into the men’s. You walked up to the coat hanger, and with a small tilt, the door opened way for the Vox hideout. 

“Ha!” Elizabeth called happily, “Should have figured a Vox girl would know how to decode the ciphers!”

“Vox girl?” Booker asked confused as he followed behind you and Elizabeth as you entered the hideout, “Wait a minute, (Name), YOU are a part of the Vox Populi?!”

You looked back at his incredulous face, giving a small shrug, “Well… Sort of, I guess. I was kind of forced into, honestly. But really, they never actually had me do anything of value, so I’m not sure why they even wanted me in the first place…”

As you finished speaking, you had made your way to the bottom of the hideout’s steps, “Feel free to search. I doubt there will be anything of use in here, though.”

The three of you set to work digging your way through the hideout. Even with the restaurant being ransacked, it looked as if the hideout had managed to stay hidden. With a heavy sigh, you let your eyes travel over a stack of propaganda posters that had been tossed to the side. Your fingers ghosted over the painting of a fierce looking Daisy, and you were letting yourself get lost in the rebel leaders sharp eyes when Elizabeth’s voice called you back to earth.

“(Name), Booker, come here!” 

You made your way over to your friend, who held up a voxophone for you both to see.

“It looks like someone recorded this for Daisy and, well… I mean, it would be a little evasive but… Should we take a listen?” She asked, raising a brow.

“Sure,” Booker spoke plainly, “Not like she’s gonna come back here for it now.”

Elizabeth gave a curt nod, and with a quick switch, she brought the voxophone to life.

“Deedee, it’s me,” An incredibly familiar, thick Irish accent filled the room, causing you and Booker to both perk up.

“That’s…” Booker spoke, pointing to the voxophone.

“Seamus.” You finished, your startled eyes meeting Booker’s as you spoke.

“Thank you for humoring me the other night. It was good to see you again. It had been far too long… You know, you really need to stop scampering away from me every chance you get; a man may start to think he’s unneeded!"

At this point, Seamus laughed deeply and slowly, in a way you could almost describe as sexual. Needless to say, it made you incredibly uncomfortable. 

‘What is going on,’ you wondered as you brought your fingers up to your lips to nervously nibble on, ‘Why is he saying Deedee… Is he that chummy with Daisy that he uses nick names?! And what is with his tone of voice, and that laugh…’

Seamus continued on, ‘Well, unfortunately I have to keep this short, so I’ll get right to the point. I still hold firm to the fact it was a spot on idea ‘letting’ her into the Vox. What with the party and that stunt you pulled with the paint. Ha! What a great show we put on!!! And better yet, she still has no idea about anything! No. Idea. At. All. So, the plan is still VERY much on. I’ll keep you in my thoughts, and eagerly await next time. Till then, Deedee, I remain forever vigilant for you.’

And with that, the message ended, and as it did, both Elizabeth and Booker turned to you with puzzled looks etched deeply on their faces.

“So… What was that about?” Elizabeth asked you with a tilted head, worry rampant in her eyes.

“I have no idea,” You spoke quietly, a deep chill snaking its way into your bones, “I have no idea at all, but they were discussing me. And from the sounds of it,” You clenched your fists tightly, your voice wavering, “They were rather keen on keeping something from me.”

Booker looked to you with a scowl engraved on his face, “This may not be my place to say this (Name), but if I were you I’d count it as a blessing to be rid of that asshole. I had my suspicions the moment I laid eyes on ‘im that punk boy was nothing but trouble.”

Your eyes widened at Booker’s words, surprised by how genuinely upset he seemed about the situation. Why should he care? What did any of this have to do with him? As you continued to stare, Booker very suddenly turned away. For a fleeting moment, you swore you saw a light tint come to his cheeks, and it occurred to you that quite possibly his outburst had embarrassed him.

“Anyway, let’s leave. Nothing left in here of any importance anyway.” He finished speaking, waving his hand for you and Elizabeth to follow behind him.

But almost as soon as he spoke, you all flinched as you heard feet stomping around above you. Elizabeth flew to your side, and you both looked to Booker, wondering how you should proceed. He frowned as the steps seemed to be coming closer, and then shot his gaze to you and Elizabeth.

“You two stay here. I’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

As he started for the stairs, you called out to him, worry seeping from your expression and voice.

“Wait, are you sure you don’t want us to help? There may be too many people for one person.”

He smirked at you, “I’ll be fine. You forget that this is how I make my living.”

With those words, he finished transcending the stairs, leaving you and Elizabeth to yourselves. You sighed lightly, and made your way over to a darkened corner where you sat upon a large, musty crate that greeted you there. Elizabeth followed tow; sitting beside you she placed her warm hand over yours.

“Hey, are you feeling alright?” Her comforting voice whispered as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You shot her a downtrodden smile, “Yeah, I’ll be OK. It’s just… A lot has happened in such a short amount of time. It’s amazing how quickly things can go to hell…”

Elizabeth nodded glumly, “True. It’s quite frightening seeing Columbia in this state, especially after peering over such a picturesque scene of it my whole life…., “she then turned to you with a kind smile, “I’m just grateful we are together and on our way out of here. I don’t know how I can thank Booker enough…”

“Yeah…” You responded, your voice trailing off at the mention of his name.

“… You know, I’ve been thinking these past days that maybe… Well, you know, maybe you should dump Seamus for Booker?”

“What?!” You exclaimed, Elizabeth’s comment taking you by surprise. As your eyes fell upon your friends, you noticed a smile that seemed a little too innocent graced her lips.

She laughed a bit, “Well, I just happened to notice the way you two look at each other sometimes seems a little bit longing,” you blushed fiercely at her words, which made her mischievous smile grow, “I mean, if you two want to take a moment to hide in a nook or something and take care of some business, I would be-“

“ELIZABETH!” You gasped, shoving her lightly away, causing her to laugh vigorously.

“I’m just kidding!” She smiled at you with glee in her eyes, her laughing coming to an end, “but I will say this: when I see the two of you together side by side, I don’t know… This may sound really weird, but it just seems right, you know? Like, the two of you were made to be together,” she chuckled a bit again before continuing; “I guess that sounds kind of silly, doesn’t it? I mean, you’ve only known him for two days!”

You sighed in an attempt to collect yourself, her words causing your cheeks to burn so red you needed to fan yourself a bit, “No, it doesn’t sound silly… In fact, well,” you gripped at your skirt tightly, beginning to feel frustrated as you scoured your mind for the right words to say, “Look, it’s just that… It’s hard to explain, but the more time I spend around him the more I honest to God feel like I KNOW the man, even when I know that isn’t impossible. So it’s not like I’m smitten or anything, it’s just-“ Your eyes darted up to your friend where you noticed she was holding back laughter, obviously very amused by your poorly stuttered out response trying to prove that you didn’t feel something for Booker. You shook your head with a defeated chuckle, “Please, I can’t handle this right now.”

She patted your shoulder lightly, “It’s okay, your secret is safe with me!” She spoke in a forced tone of seriousness.

You were just about to speak again, when Booker’s voice called down to you from the top of the stairs. 

“Could you ladies be any louder,” he hollered down, a bit out of breath, “Even in the middle of a gun fight I could still hear you laughing, which can make it pretty hard to protect you when you are openly giving your location away,” you both blushed slightly at these words, as Booker’s eyes narrowed down at both of you, “…What were you talking about anyway?”

“Nothing!” You both spoke in unison, causing a small frown to hang on Booker’s face.

He sighed deeply, “I found where we need to go, come on.”

As Booker exited the hideout, you moved to follow him. However, Elizabeth’s hand clamped tightly to your wrist, causing you to swivel her way in surprise.

“Elizabeth, what is it?” You questioned with a frown, noting the severe look that had quickly replaced the bubbly one she wore moments ago.”

“Promise me,” her voice came out strong, sending a slight shiver through you, “that if we come in contact with Seamus that you will stay on your guard. I’m not sure what he was discussing in that Voxophone, but I’m sure that it gives us all reason to doubt that we can trust him…. (Name), promise me. I can’t have him hurt you.”

After hearing her words, you nodded grimly, a fierce look flashing through your eyes.

“I promise.”

~

"This is going to be FANTASTIC!”

Your eyes wearily cast Elizabeth’s way as she happily spun her newly acquired skyhook in her hands. You watched as the blades of it spun round and round, a wave of queasiness washing over you the longer you watched. Your eyes flitted up to Elizabeth’s, where you noted that she looked absolutely thrilled about getting to travel on these godforsaken lines. The pit in your stomach grew as you stared down at the MANY miles below you.

‘Booker’s path HAD to be via skylines, You thought to yourself as a cold sweat encompassed your being, ‘I’ve purposefully avoided skylines my whole life based on the sheer terror of dangling THOUSANDS of feet in the air by one hand while little more than magnetized hooks and your own strength keep you from certain death… Dammit, WHY did it have to be the skylines?!’

“Except we have a problem,” Booker’s voice drew both you and Elizabeth’s attentions his way, “We only have two of these skyhooks, and three of us.”

“Well, if we look around, surely-“ Elizabeth went to say, when Booker cut her off.

“I already did look,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “In the stores, on bodies, even in the trash. There are only two.”

Elizabeth stood for a moment in thought before speaking up again enthusiastically.

“I know,” she snapped, “(Name) and I can share one! We’re both small enough that our hands can probably both fit in the holder!”

Booker shook his head briskly, “Out of the question. These things were built to only strap in one person at a time. If both of you grab on, the strap won’t hold you, and with one slip of the hand you’ll be hurtling to the ground.”

Those words caused your body to shiver lightly, a motion that did not pass Booker’s notice.

“Look… I have an idea,” he sighed heavily, before turning his attentions fully to you, “(Name), how much do you trust me?”

A look of sheer terror passed over your features, “What exactly do you mean by that?”

He frowned, “The only way to get to where we need to go is by this skyline, and the only way to travel it is a skyhook, of which we only have two. You can’t ride with Elizabeth because it’s unsafe… But,” his deep green eyes landed on yours at this point, causing your heart to flutter madly for an entirely different reason than fear, “… I can hold you. If you ride with me, all three of us can get across. But, that’s only if you trust me enough to get you there.”

You froze for a moment as his words sunk in, ‘Hold me? Riding in Booker’s arms on the skyline…?’ You fought hard to suppress butterflies that were growing in your stomach, which you were very much failing at.

“I… I trust you, Booker,” you responded quietly, averting your gaze in embarrassment, “But then again, I guess it’s not like I really have another choice, do it?”

You heard Booker give a small laugh, which drew your gaze back his way, “No, I guess not.” He responded with a warm smirk which managed to wipe away some of the dread that was eating away at you.

“Alight then, enough waiting,” Elizabeth spoke up, stepping into view valiantly with her skyhook at the ready, “Booker and (Name), you lead the way and I’ll follow!” She finished speaking by shooting you a sly wink, earning her a stern frown from yourself.

Booker nodded, “Right. (Name), come here.”

At the mention of your name you glanced his way, noting that he had positioned himself at the ready to connect with the skyline, his other arm stretched your way, eagerly awaiting your arrival.

With a deep breath, you made your way shakily towards the man, hoping to hell he wouldn’t notice how positively nerve-wracked you were by this whole situation. You stood in front of him shyly, unable to make eye contact with him as you felt a strong arm wrap snuggly around your waist. You gasped lightly as he pulled you tightly against him, your body feeling as if was on fire from the proximity.

“You’ll need to wrap your arms tightly around my neck,” he spoke to you calmly and quietly, the nearness of his voice making the breath hitch in your throat, “Also, you’ll want to wrap your legs around me. Hold on as tight as you can, and I’ll do the same to you.”

You nodded quickly, bringing your arms around his neck snuggly, and with his help, hoisting yourself up so that your legs were wrapped around him, too. You buried your face in his shoulder, taking in his musky scent. All of this was so painstakingly mortifying, yet at the same time, you couldn’t help but find enjoyment nestled safely in his strong arms…

“You ready, Elizabeth?” Booker hollered over his shoulder, getting a jubilant ‘yes’ from your friend. He then tilted his head your way.

“How about you,” he shot you a reassuring smile, “I promise not to drop ya.”

“Well thanks,” you smirked, “I feel completely at ease now.”

Without another word, Booker began to trot, and with a powerful leap, he propelled you both in the air. For a moment your heart stopped. What if he was too far away and the magnets didn’t pick up?! You wrapped yourself tighter around Booker, squeezing your eyes shut in fear. You managed to breathe a small sigh of relief as you felt the skyhook connect with the line, but still made sure to keep your eyes closed.

“You know, when I said hang on tight, I didn’t secretly mean strangle me.” Booker spoke in your ear, causing you to flush in embarrassment.

“I’m incredibly sorry!” you loosened your grip a bit.

Booker chuckled deeply, “It’s alright.”

As the wind whipped around you wildly, you tried to focus your efforts on anything that didn’t involve thinking about the peerless fall beneath you. You could feel your heart drumming away violently in your chest, and you took deep breaths in order to calm yourself down… When you realized your heart beat wasn’t the only one pounding wildly. As you were pressed tightly against Booker’s rough chest, you became aware that it wasn’t just your heart causing your chest to thump roughly, but also his own. A blush once again befell your cheeks, and you shook your head a bit to try and cast away your thoughts. Booker’s heart beat was all just pure adrenaline from flying through the sky, right?

“You still okay?” You heard Booker speak quietly in your ear, the warmth of his breath causing a shiver to spread through your body.

His words took you by surprise, “Oh, I’m alright! It’s just that… Well, I’m afraid of heights!” You responded quickly, your voice muffled by his shirt.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost at the end,” he called back reassuringly. As he did, you felt his grip on you become even tighter, more protective. It caused warmth to spread throughout your entire body.

As it turned out, Booker wasn’t lying, and mere seconds later your feet sloppily touched land, Elizabeth coming in directly behind you.

“That was so much fun!!!” She exclaimed as she met up with the two of you, “Please tell me we can do that at least one more time before we leave?!”

You shot her a wry smile, “How can you be so fearless?!”

She looked at you with a twinkle in her eye, “My dear (Name), when you spend your whole life locked away, you learn to push away fear in favor of new and exciting opportunities… You know, like flying through the air on a skyhook!”

You shook your head with a laugh, “You are crazy, you know that?”

After you all had readjusted to the land, you made your way up the stairs towards soldier’s field, shocked at what awaited you there.

At the top of the stairs stood a huge monument; a beautiful statue of the ‘lady of Columbia’. However, someone had desecrated it, painting sexual imagery crudely over her body, and changing the Hall of Heroes sign to say Hall of Whores. The statue loomed somberly over other various piles of trash and destroyed property, giving you the sinking feeling that your venture through the Hall of Heroes would not be an easy one.

“Hey, isn’t this that guy we heard those thugs talking about when we fought them near the Fellow Traveler?” Elizabeth questioned, pointing her thumb towards a wanted poster that hung loosely to a pillar. The person the poster was Cornelius Slate; A man whose bloody reputation was vast and well know. A man you had only ever met once, and frankly, that was more than enough for you.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Booker spoke, drawing your and Elizabeth’s attentions his way.

“I actually know the fella. Seems he still has a knack for making enemies.”

“Really,” Elizabeth shot Booker a questioning glance, “Huh… How about you, (Name)? Have you ever met him?”

You frowned as a distant memory came to your mind, “Once, a long time ago. He’s not exactly someone I’d be interested in meeting again, though.”

Booker gave you a puzzled look, and for a moment you were sure he was going to inquire about how you knew Slate. However, with a slight shake of his head, his face returned to its default serious expression.

“(Name), better find yourself a gun. Elizabeth, look for some ammo. Looks like this path ain’t going to be as easy as we had hoped.”

You frowned at his words, your suspicions being spot on, “Understood.”

You made your way closer to the statue, noting that at its base a few guns were rested. You bent down in order to pick one up, and as you did, your blood ran cold.

A bullet had skimmed your cheek, causing a thin line of blood to appear on your soft skin. Your eyes darted up just in time to catch a quick glimpse of the sniper on the roof above you. You hurriedly grabbed a gun, and sought out cover.

“BOOKER,” you yelled to the man, garnering his attention, “ON THAT ROOF! A SNIPER-“

As you were mid yell, the sniper struck again, this time nearly hitting Booker. You cursed as you aimed your gun his way, and once you had locked on, attempted to fire. Not surprisingly, you were too far away for the bullet to reach him. Also not surprisingly, it drew his attention back your way.

“Damn it!” You yelled as you moved to another location, your eyes skimming frantically for a better firearm to reach him with. It seemed that Elizabeth had beaten you to it however, when you heard her calling in the distance.

“BOOKER, take this!” She called, throwing him a sniper rifle.

You smiled. Now you were on even footing. 

At least, that’s what you thought briefly before just behind you, a small group of men busted their way through the Hall of Heroes door, guns blazing and eyes set on you.

You quickly bolted from your location, and sought cover behind a tower of crates. The men were relentlessly shooting away, and you broke out in a panicked sweat as you saw more and more chunks of wood fly off around you. It wouldn’t be long before your cover was no more, and the next spot of cover was farther away than you were sure you could make. You gnawed at your lip nervously causing it to bleed, and steeled yourself to face them.

Much to your luck, as you crouched in your hiding spot you were able to hit several of them. One you got in both arms, the other in the leg, and the third in the shoulder. However, this didn’t stop them from coming at you, and sure as hell wouldn’t save you from getting killed. You gripped your gun so tightly your hands ached, when you felt the ground rumble violently beside you, followed by (peculiarly enough) a ghostly echo of a horse whinnying.

You peeked over the boxes to see your attackers suspended in the air and knew instantly it had to be Bucking Bronco. One by one, they were shot down expertly, and as your eyes traveled over they met none other than Mister Dewitt displaying his gunmanship. 

Once the men had all fallen lifelessly to the ground, he called out to you roughly.

“(NAME), ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!”

You stepped out of the rubble of boxes, patting the debris off yourself in the process. You looked up at Booker and Elizabeth, whose features both softened considerably upon seeing you safe.

“I managed to stay in one piece, don’t worry.” you smiled at them as you made your way towards them.

Once you had reached them, you looked up at Booker, “Mister Dewitt, it seems you are quite fond of vigors…”

He shrugged, “They come in handy. How ‘bout you, you ever use them?”

You shook your head heartily, “Oh no! That isn’t something I am interested in! Let’s just say I am not too fond of the man who manufactures them,” Booker shot you an odd look, and before he could question you, you carried on, “Just make sure you are careful with them, and use them sparingly. They aren’t heavily tested, you see, and quite honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they have a very negative health impact down the road.”

After you spoke, Elizabeth chuckled pleasantly, “Our dear (Name), mother hen of the group!”

You blushed lightly at Elizabeth’s jest, and spoke softly “I just want you both to be safe.” 

Elizabeth smiled warmly at you, before placing a soft kiss on your forehead, after which she spoke, “Well, I am sure there is more trouble ahead, seeing the state of this place.   
Shall we move on and get it over with?” She looked at you and Booker expectantly.

You nodded, “Yeah, let’s go.”

The three of you ascended the stairs to the Hall of Heroes entrance, and as Booker placed his hand on the door, he looked back at you both with a sigh.

“Stay alert. I’m not sure what awaits us in here, but I’m damn sure it’s not just shock jockey.”

Both you and Elizabeth nodded, and with those words, you pushed your way inside.

~

A/N: RIP Fellow Traveler gang. *pours booze from Booker’s stash onto the floor* This one goes out to you guys.

Man, that sniper sucked. He was probably drunk. Oh well, lucky for you guys. :P

I still can’t get over skylines. Like, what kind of crazy person would use those things?! Apparently the reader and her crew, but that’s beside the point!!! And hey, at least you got to ride them with a big, hunky, strapping man holding onto you! ;D

Also, just what are Seamus and Daisy up to?! Hmmmm. The plot thickens!

Anyway, there you have it! Chapter 21!!! I hope you all deeply enjoyed it because I had quite a bit of fun writing this one!!! I promise to have the next chapter up ASAP!!! Thank you all so, so, SO much for reading and reviewing and just generally being superb! I love you all! Till next time, my dears!


	22. The Hall of Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting shock jockey was going to be a lot harder than you thought...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pokes head out* Heh heh heh… Hey everyone! Long time no see… 
> 
> I AM SO INCREDIBLY SORRY FOR THE DELAY OF THIS CHAPTER. *Falls to knees and prays for forgiveness* Hot dog, I really have no excuse. :( You guys are all so wonderful and patient and I was being such a slow turd… Forgive me… I really do love you guys!!!
> 
> BUT REGARDLESS, HERE IT IS IN ALL IT’S GLORY! We are getting into the meeting of Cornelius Slate and all that fun stuff. *Sigh* The road to shock jockey is gonna be a hard one for you and your gang…
> 
> Also, as always, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE, READS, REVIEWS, LOVE, AND JUST EVERYTHING! GAH! YOU GUYS ARE THE LITERAL GREATEST I WILL FIGHT A MAN AND SEVERAL ARMED BEARS IF THEY SAY OTHERWISE.
> 
> But anyway, I won’t hold you guys up anymore! Go! Get reading!!! You’ve waited long enough!!!

You stood awkwardly behind your mother and Fink as your sweaty palms tugging nervously at your overtly frilly dress. For the most part, your eyes stayed glued to the floor; you were far too nervous to be making eye contact with all the important people you were surrounded by. That, or was it more your intense fear of what would happen if you embarrassed Fink in front of said people that kept you so stiff and mortified? It was hard to really say. Regardless, You HATED moments like this. Moments when Fink had to make some kind of public appearance and in doing so dragged you and your mother out in the public eye with him.

In front of you, your mother stood staunchly, her radiant beauty the envy of all other ladies in the room. Next to her, Fink. One of the powerhouses of Columbia, a man everyone knew and everyone respected. Before them stood Comstock, the prophet and Father of all Columbia, and next to him was a man you had never seen before, but you were sure was equally as important. Surrounding the lot of them was a gathering of more people, many of whom you had seen before, and all of them of some form of importance to the city. And behind them all was you… someone who didn’t really belong. Your eyes began to blink fast in an attempt to ward off tears. You wished your hardest to be anywhere but here…

“Who’s the girl?”

The grizzled voice snapped you from your thoughts and your eyes immediately shot upward, meeting the stony gaze of the mystery man who was just speaking to Comstock moments ago.

“Oh, this is my little girl,” Fink spoke in a sickeningly sweet tone, clamping a rough hand down on your shoulder. You winced in pain.

“Last I heard you weren’t a father, Fink.” The man drawled, his intense stare not leaving yours. You averted your eyes in fear. Albeit on his own, the man was scary, what with his scared features and imposing build. But there was something even fiercer and more disturbing in his eye, something animalistic and cruel. He looked at you in a way that caused your small body to quake relentlessly.

Fink laughed, “True, she is adopted on my end, but she has the blood of my wife and is therefore my pride and joy,” your frown deepened at Fink’s blatant lie and you nearly toppled over as he shoved you forward, “Go on dear, introduce yourself to Mister Cornelius Slate!”

‘Cornelius Slate… So that is who this man is.’ Your mind buzzed in recognition of the name. There wasn’t a soul in Columbia who hadn’t heard of his bloody exploits in Wounded Knee. You heart started to pound in horror as your feet skid to a stop mere inches from him. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you swore he smelled of blood.

“What is your name, child?” His voice boomed over you, and you stared hard at his shoes, still unable to muster the courage to look him in the eye.

“My name is (Name),” You curtsied hurriedly and sloppily, your voice nothing more than a shaky whisper, “It’s a pleasure to meet you-“

“Any dolled up kiddy who is too afraid to look her elders in the eye and grant them the respect they deserve is a child I have no time to waste on. Train her better Fink, or else she’ll just end up another cheap whore on the street.”

Your body turned ice cold as his booming words hit you. You felt your mother latch on tightly to you, a gasp of disgust escaping her lips.

Without another word the man whisked past you, and Comstock made his way over to your mother to apologize for his words. You had a hard time focusing on what was being spoken, however, as a final shudder wracked your body and granted you release from the fear that had gripped your heart.

~ 

You had hoped with all your heart that would be your ONLY encounter with Cornelius Slate. But as fate would have it, you shockingly weren’t that lucky.

Your group had made its way into the Hall of Heroes with little trouble. There were a few gun men here and there, but so far, nothing unmanageable. While yourself and Elizabeth snuck through the halls, you managed to snatch up various Voxophones scattered along the way. All of them were from Slate, and all of them were recordings of various levels of contempt he held towards Comstock. Though you were far from a fan of Slate, you found yourself being able to understand him the more you listened to him speak.

After a few more minutes of walking, you arrived at a large open room that held nothing more than a large, brilliantly sculpted and beautifully lit monument of Comstock, glorifying his supposed war efforts. You frowned, seeing it made you feel sick.

Elizabeth trotted over to base of the statue, and in a clear voice, began to read off what was inscribed. 

“Our Prophet Father Comstock, commander of the seventh Calvary.”

Your gaze was drawn to Booker as he snorted incredulously.

“That man did not lead the seventh,” he sneered, his mouth fixed in a hard frown, “Hell… I don’t even remember the guy.”

Before Booker even had the chance to finish, a blaring voice echoed from speaker system above you. It had been so long since you heard him speak, but you would recognize the voice anywhere.

“Corporal Dewitt proved his worth on the battlefield that day.” Slate’s ghostly voice echoed through the empty room.

‘Corporal Dewitt…’ you thought, letting your eyes travel back to Booker’s face, ‘So he was a military man?’

“Well I’ll be,” Booker spoke before calling out, “Slate? Is that you?”

“You always been different haven’t you, Booker,” Slate’s cold voice chided from the speaker, “You crave no glory.”

“Look, I see you’re caught up in some kind of… trouble here, but if you could see fit to let us through to where they keep the Shock Jockey, then we’ll-“

“That tin soldier Comstock,” Slate cut him off, disgust dripping from his voice, “he wants my boys DEAD. We won’t die at his hands!”

You felt Booker tense beside you, and as your fretful eyes met him, you saw that he was holding his gun at the ready.

“Shit… There’s going to be trouble.” His quiet voice sent shivers down your spine.

“All my men have left is a choice,” Slate droned on, “Die at the hands of a TIN soldier or a REAL one!”

Just as his words filled the air, the door directly behind Elizabeth burst open and several gunmen spilled out, armed and ready for battle. Without a second thought, you lunged for your friend, dragging her out of the way just in time to avoid a barrage of bullets. You both crashed roughly to the floor, clutching tightly to each other as Booker fought them off. After the initial fear of being attacked faded, you realized these soldiers seemed solely interested in fighting Booker alone, and didn’t spare you or Elizabeth so much as a second glance. Part of you was relieved, but a larger part of you worried for Booker. 

“(Name), where is your gun?” Elizabeth’s voice garnered your attention, and caused you to stare questioningly into her bright blue eyes, “Your gun, do you still have it? You should try and help Booker!”

As if coming out of a haze, her words finally got through to you, “You are right,” You nodded, and began to pat your body down feverishly for your weapon, “Where is it… where did I-Oh shit, I laid it down a few rooms back when I picked up that Voxophone,” Your fretful gaze fell to Booker, who was fighting off three large men at once, “Oh God.”

“(Name), it’s okay,” Elizabeth’s clear voice pierced the hectic scenario, and instantly started to calm you. You felt her small hands grip reassuringly to your shoulders, “There are other ways to help! Come on, let’s look for ammo or salts!”

With a curt nod, you both split up, scouring the room for whatever you could find. In the corner of the room, your eyes passed over something that seemed to let off a soft glow. As you neared closer, a smile graced your lips when the Salt logo came into view. You scooped the bottle up hurriedly, and turned just in time to see Elizabeth toss Booker some ammo. In a fluid motion, he was able to catch it without even looking and load his gun in no time flat. Mere seconds later, the last of the threats was lying dead in a pool of blood.  
A cold chill shot down your spine at the display. Booker Dewitt was truly was a person to fear, but at the same time, there was something rather poetic and exciting in the way he fought... And the way he could synchronize with Elizabeth made them the perfect, deadly team. It took your breath away while simultaneously causing your chest to tighten.

Before any of you had a chance to speak, Slate’s voice once again screeched from above, “You see? You see! You’re a KILLER Booker!”

“Just give us the Shock Jockey!” Booker yelled in response, his voice displaying openly how fed up with the situation he was.

“If you want the vigor, Booker, you will give my men a soldier’s death… They wait for you at Wounded Knee and Peking.”

The speaker cut out, leaving the three of you in a welcomed silence. You pocketed the salts, and made your way over to Booker and Elizabeth.

“…Are you alright?” You tentatively asked the incredibly bothered looking Booker.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he breathed heavily, still catching his breath from the fight, “Just pissed that jobs like this can never be easy.” 

You gave him a halfhearted smile before speaking, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help, it appears I foolishly left my gun somewhere… I promise to be useful next time.”

He smirked back at you, “Hey now, you don’t always have to fight. I can handle myself, and… Well, frankly, I can tell you don’t much enjoy fighting, so I’ll do what I can to keep you outta it. Your priority should be to keep yourself and Elizabeth safe. Keep an eye out for each other, that’ll be the best help of all.”

Encouraged by his kindness, a large smile bloomed on your face and gave you the courage to keep talking, “Well I’ve been mastering keeping an eye on Elizabeth for years now, so I should be able to accomplish that with no problems at all. But, um… Booker?”

“Hm?” He grunted as his deep sea foam eyes boring deeply into yours.

“I… I had no idea you knew Cornelius Slate… Nor that you were in the army, and battled-“

“Enough.” His stern voice startled you, and his eyes that moments ago were calm, now held a threatening glare to them. Your body froze to the spot, and you felt your heart sink with the realization that you must have hit a major nerve with him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” He huskily whispered as he began to take brisk steps your direction, passing you by and trudging onward, “Come on. The faster we get Shock Jockey to faster we get outta here.”

Elizabeth followed after Booker, making a stop next to you to gently tug on your hand.

“Don’t let his words get to you,” She shot you a small smile as she noticed the glum look on your face, “We all have things we don’t want to discuss… I’m sure he didn’t mean to come off as cold as he did.”

You nodded at your friend’s reassurance, and let her pull you along to your next destination.

~

“GAH!” You shrieked, jumping out the way of a wooden standee of a horribly racist Native American man caricature that popped up out of nowhere, causing you to collide roughly into Elizabeth.

“See! It is startling!” Elizabeth retorted, crossing her arms over her chest in a haughty manner. Just moments ago you poked fun at her for being spooked by the exact same thing. 

Booker sighed heavily behind you, “Come on you two, stay alert.”

“Sorry.” You and Elizabeth stated in unison, and carried on walking slowly, keeping your hands tightly connected while your vigilant eyes darted this way and that.

Truth be told, you had only been inside this part of the Hall of Heroes once, and it was when you first came to Columbia and you were getting a tour from your tutor. Since then, the building had changed a lot. You never experienced these rooms filled with horribly skewed retellings of the battles of Peking and Wounded Knee, and quite honestly, you would have been perfectly fine if you never had. The whole place oozed Columbia propaganda, and the jarring lighting and sound effects were amplified by the fact that somewhere lurking in these displays were people all too eager to try and kill you. You gripped Elizabeth’s hand tighter, and nudged yourself a bit closer to Booker.

“Hey now, don’t squeeze too hard or my hand may pop off!” Elizabeth whispered at you. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but the shake of her voice and sweat on her brow showed she was just as nervous as you were.

Before you had a chance to respond, Slate’s voice boomed once more from the speakers.

“The tin soldier has taken credit for the deeds of the real ones. Now your companion, young ladies, he wrapped himself in glory on December 29, 1890.”

The speakers cut out again, but not before you were hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. Unable to stand securely on your own, you teetered over to the wall and placed your hands squarely against it, steadying yourself whilst you caught your breath.

“(Name)… Are you okay?” Elizabeth asked worriedly as she made her way to your side.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you smiled at her, “I just got a little dizzy, is all… I think it’s the lighting in here.” 

Your words seemed to put her at ease, but you still fretted over the feeling Slate’s words left in your heart, ‘December 29, 1890… Why does that date ring a bell…’ You felt as if you were on the verge of remembering something, when Elizabeth’s voice broke your concentration.

“What does he mean?” She asked Booker, as she wrapped her arms around you and pulled you gently from the wall, making sure you were steady enough on your own before letting go.

Booker averted his gaze from the two of, and proceeded onward. His voice was so soft it was barely audible.

“You don’t want to know.”

~

Eventually, your group made it to the end of the Wounded Knee exhibit. You spilled out into a room that was much quieter and dimmer than the rest of the exhibit was, and before you stood an elaborate set up of more Native American standee’s as well as an imposing statue of what you assumed was Comstock. 

Your eyes darted to Booker in worry. Throughout the whole of the exhibit, he seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable. His pace quickened, and his usually sharp eyes seemed unfocused and dull. His body slumped slightly, his breathing seemed off, and sweat snaked down his temples. The way he was acting… It went beyond being just bothered. This man was entirely shaken. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours, and you felt your heart beat quicken. But as soon as he looked, he turned his head away in a movement that you could only describe as trying to hide something. He looked ashamed. 

Seeing him this way was physically painful, and your heart yearned for something to say to him that would alleviate his agony… But no words came to your lips.

“You… You were there,” Elizabeth’s voice softly called as she turned to attentions towards Booker, “at Wounded Knee. I can see it in your face.”

The speaker’s screeched to life once more, “Tell them, Booker! Tell them how we strode that battlefield like the heroes of Sparta! I still hear the screams… Does Comstock?”

Just as Comstock’s name sounded over the intercom, men flooded the room, rearing to strike.

“Here’s the soldier I spoke of! The kind of man Comstock pretends to be! See if I told you true!”

Before Slate could even finish speaking, Booker was already well engaged in combat. You located yourself out of the way, and your eyes made contact with Elizabeth’s. Without even speaking, you understood what you both needed to do as your scoured the area for anything at all that may help Booker out.

After several minutes of fighting, all the men had been taken out, and the battle drew to a close. Just as the last man had breathed his last, Slate’s excited voice filled the room.

“You see, young misses? You see the man Comstock wishes he was?! A REAL soldier!”

“I don’t want to do this, Slate! Just give me what I need!” Booker yelled, as he hurriedly set to work loading his gun with the ammo you had moments before managed to supply to him. He seemed to be anticipating another wave, and you wouldn’t at all be shocked if he was right.

“I will… After you do the same for me. Come and look for me amongst the boxers.”

You cringed at his words, and Elizabeth’s voice called out to Booker, “Who are the boxers?”

Booker sighed irritably, “The Chinese. He means us to head to the other display.”

“Can you hear Comstock’s tin soldiers coming to silence us?! But WE are the true patriots! The history that does not fit in their books!”

“God, I wish he’d shut up.” You whispered between gritted teeth, placing a hand over your eyes momentarily as you felt another wave of dizziness take you. 

You heard a small chuckle escape Bookers lips, taking you by surprise, “Sure be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“You can say that again.” Elizabeth added in with a half-smile.

You smiled gently at the two of them, a little embarrassed that they heard you, you thought you had been quiet enough to avoid their ears. But even with the embarrassment, you were happy to have lightened the mood, even if only for a moment. And seeing that your comment caused Booker’s feature to soften a bit was enough to fill your heart with joy.

~

You made your way to the Boxer Rebellion display, and proceeded through it much the same way as the Wounded Knee exhibit; quietly and on edge.

“… What is this?” Elizabeth asked confusedly, her eyes passing sourly over the horrible caricatures of Chinese men.

“It’s the Boxer Rebellion.” Booker responded dryly, carrying the group forward.

“What happened there?”

Just as you had gotten used to the quiet, Slate’s voice ended up being the one to answer Elizabeth’s question.

“In Peking? It was my hand that put the city to the torch,” you visibly grimaced at his words as he continued on, “of course, that’s not how Comstock tells it.”

“I’ll never forget this battle,” your voice called out weakly, drawing both Booker and Elizabeth’s gazes, “This is what caused Columbia to secede from the union… This fight was the moment I knew I’d never see my father or my home again.”

Booker’s eyes lingered on you for a moment before her looked away and spoke, “Never is a strong word… I’ll get you outta here. I’ll get you home.”

The sincerity in his words took you by surprise, and a warm feeling started to spread in your chest. For a moment your mind went blank, completely taken by surprise by his staunch declaration. How could he say something like that and stay so calm, while your insides were fluttering like mad? You smiled, and after the butterflies began to subside you were ready to talk. 

However, you didn’t get the chance to respond, as he had already hustled into the next room, and was beckoning to you and Elizabeth to follow after him.

~  
As you carried on, you eventually made your way to the end of this display as well, dumping your group into a much better lit display room than the previous ones. This display was set up to look like snow covered battlefield, with hordes of Chinese warriors converging on a once proud statue of Comstock, that had since been torn to the ground.

“Oh, now I remember,” Elizabeth suddenly called out, as she pounded her fist into the palm of her other hand,” I read about this! Comstock lead the Columbian troops to Peking, and-“

“COMSTOCK WASN’T THERE,” Slate’s livid voice boomed through the room, “The boxers took my eye and thirty of my friends! Is there even a stone to mark that sacrifice?!”

And as he finished those words, men advanced into the room, all honing in on Booker. You set out to assist Elizabeth in aiding Booker once more, when a terrible hissing noise reached your ears, followed by an intense heat at your back. You swiveled around quickly, your heart sinking as your eyes came in contact with the Fireman. 

You glanced back over to Booker, finding him completely preoccupied with the men he was fighting. As it were, he would make it out fine, but with the fireman… You worried about the results.

Your mind move quickly as the inferno of a man clunkily approached Booker, his flames at the ready. Your eyes darted speedily as a nervous cold sweat engulfed your body. You had to find something to help, and soon.

As if that thought materialized your desires, your eyes caught site of a valve reading WATER. A light bulb went off in your head, and you hurriedly made your way to the valve, and firmly placed your hands on the turning wheel.

‘I have no idea if this will work, but it’s worth a shot,’ you thought to yourself as your sweaty hands struggled to get a good grip on the wheel, ‘After all, water is fire’s main weakness, right?’

“Hey you,” you screamed out to the fireman, but to no avail. He continued to plunk his way towards Booker, causing anger to swell inside you. Looking down, your eyes caught a chunk of wood that apparently fallen off one of the displays. You picked it up, and with a mighty hurl, tossed it straight for the Fireman. It hit his head with a sizzling ‘CLUNK’, and succeeded in drawing his attentions your way.

“Hey asshole,” you called out, placing your hands back on the wheel, “it’s not polite to ignore a lady!”

Your words had the effect you had hoped for, and excitement coursed through your veins as you saw him hustle his way towards you. Unfortunately, your excitement was all too soon replaced by fear as you came to the realization that the valve would not move. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as dread seeped into your pores. You tried and tried with all your might, but the valve just wouldn’t budge. You lift your gaze to see the Fireman was nearly upon you, his flames ready and eager to burn you alive. Tears stung your eyes at the realization that this could very well be your end…

“TURN!”

The fierce yell threw you for a loop, and looking over, you were taken by surprise to see Elizabeth at your side, pulling with all her might at the handle.

“COME ON, (NAME)! I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE!”

You nodded, and immediately set to work helping Elizabeth turn the handle. You both threw all that you were into turning the valve, and just when you felt the Fireman’s flames start to lick at your flesh, the wheel creaked into life, causing a surprisingly powerful blast of water to surge from the spigot, which sent the Fireman toppling backwards.

You watched in a sort of morbid fascination as the water did what you hoped it would; put the fireman out. He struggled fiercely at first, thrashing this way and that in an attempt to escape his liquid doom. But the water was pumping too hard and too fast, and before long, he fell to his knees in front of you. Part of you felt sorry as you watched him fall. His fate was one imposed by Columbia, not by choice. Being sealed away in a constantly burning suit that seared your flesh incessantly… You could think no better description for ‘hell on earth’. But still, he was going to kill Booker, and after that he’d try and get you and Elizabeth. That was something you could not allow to happen.

“(NAME), GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Elizabeth’s scream pulled you from your thoughts as you felt her small hand clamped tightly to your wrist, tugging you hard away from the Fireman. You were about to ask her what was the matter, when behind you a violent hissing sound emerged, followed by one final blast of heat. Looking back, you saw the Fireman had self-destructed, leaving nothing behind but a pile of ash. It was a painful end to an equally painful life.

“You did them a favor, Booker. You let them die like men.” Slate’s voice spoke once more through the intercom, causing you to look Booker’s way. You sighed in relief to see him still standing in one piece, all his threats eliminated.

Booker snarled, “I didn’t ask for this, I have no quarrel with these men!”

“Heroes never ask.”

He grit his teeth, his hands tightly balling into fists, “I never claimed to be no hero-“

“Then what are you,” Slate’s voice jeered, “If you take away all the parts of Booker Dewitt that you tried to erase, what’s left? … Come back to the rotunda. It’s almost over.”

The intercom went dead, leaving an eerily uncomfortable silence in the air.

After several seconds, Elizabeth worked up the courage to speak, “What did Slate mean? What did you try to erase?”

A pained smirk spread across Booker’s face as he responded, “Now that you’re out of yours, you might realize cages have their advantages.”

Elizabeth straightened herself, a serious expression enveloping her face, “A choice is better than none, Mister Dewitt, no matter what the outcome.”

Booker’s eyes narrowed, and he sharply turned on Elizabeth, “Yeah? What if you woke up one day and realized you didn’t like what you chose?”

The tension in the air was palpable as Booker and Elizabeth continued to viciously glare at each other. Taking a deep breath, you began to steadily speak.

“Whether you like it or not, at least it was your choice,” both Booker and Elizabeth turned your way, and you stared back at them, “People make wrong decisions all the time, and people make painful decisions all the time, but at least they are their decisions. When you make them, you own them, and they make you who you are. I would… I would much rather be responsible for being my own person, no matter how much I mess up or how painful things become, than to be someone else’s doll that they can shape as they see fit,” your voice grew quieter, and you averted your gaze from your companions, “I’ve lived enough of my life having my decisions made for me… I am done being other people’s toy.”

Your words seemed to reach them, as the anger fled their eyes, instead being replaced with looks of surprise, or even bewilderment. A reassuring smile graced your lips as you turned your body around, and proceeded to make your way back through the exhibit.

“Now let’s go,” you called clearly over your shoulder, “I think it’s high time we get some Shock Jockey.”

~

Awwww girl, gimme a high five! *High fives* Way to take care of the fireman, can I get a hell yeah! Woo hoo! (And shout out to Liz, because you’d probs be hard dead without her there, let’s be honest.) Also, nice little speech at the end there! Way to tell ‘um!!!

I would like to nick name this whole arch of the game ‘Incredibly Bothered Booker Adventures’ because Slate is so so so bothersome (what with brining up pesky reminders of your horrid past, what a guy!!!). -_- And Incredibly Bothered Booker just sounds great, like a children's book. 

I’d like to think that that little flashback meeting at the beginning was Comstock trying to commemorate Slate in some way, and also talk to him about the opening of The Hall of Heroes war exhibits which he assured Slate would showcase him. HAH! YEAH RIGHT, LOSER! Comstock is all about himself being the cool guy, not you, ya nerd (what am I even talking about at this point, I’m sorry).

Anyway, how’d you like it?! Again, I’m sorry for the wait. : ( This chapter seems far too short for how long I made you guys wait… I truly do apologize. But know that I love you all, AND I ABSOLUTELY PROMISE the next chapter will take far less time than this one did! 

As always, thank you so incredibly much for the reads and all the awesome support and love you guys give me! You are all nothing short of wonderful, and I look forward to seeing you all at the next chapter! Till then, little moths!!!


	23. Lady Comstock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never much liked that woman...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it’s Mothra!!! It’s been ages, and let me apologize deeply for that…
> 
> Honestly, life has been pretty damn hectic as of late. The house I’m currently living in is going to be sold in the next few months so my boyfriend and I have been in the process of looking for places to move/moving. That, and I’ve been searching for a new job, and have had some family issues and 40+ hours at work recently… *Sigh* Excuses, excuses, Mothra! I know… but I’m hoping you guys all understand why chapters are taking so long. I’ve been pretty darn drained, and when I do get some downtime, my fics don’t always get the attention they deserve… So I’m sorry!!! Truly!
> 
> That being said, this chapter isn’t my favorite one I’ve written. I kinda wrote it out in between a lot of stuff going on, so I feel like it suffered a bit from that… But regardless, it is the next chapter and it does further the story (and has some sweet times with Booker and Liz HELL YEAH!). AND a lot of awesome stuff is coming in the future of this story that I am super excited to get you guys to!!! I just feel bad for making you all wait so long. D:
> 
> But enough of my moaning! I love you all and thank you all so much eternally for all your love and support! You truly are all gems of humanity and as long as you are all happy, I am happy as well!
> 
> So get reading, little moths!!!

As the three of you moved forward, you found yourselves in the entrance of the First Ladies memorial.

You took quiet, careful steps as you made your way into the large memorial room, and a slight gasp escaped your lips as you took it all in. It had been awhile since you had seen Lady Comstock’s memorial, but it was still just as brilliant (if not more so) as you remembered it being. What with the clear fountains spreading along the floors and the high open ceiling’s making the room seem far larger than it was, the place nearly seemed like the entrance to a palace. As your feet continued to slowly clack over the fine marble floors, it was extremely evident that no expense was too much for Comstock’s precious, deceased wife. 

Your eyes passed over the large angelic statue that stood before you, as she eternally spread her arms open to any travelers who entered this sacred place. Seeing it caused a shiver to travel down your spine; It reminded you far too much of Elizabeth’s tower.

In an attempt to distance yourself from such a horrid reminder, you made your way toward the center of the room, where a large portrait of the Lady herself hung. She looked beautiful and regal standing against the elegant backdrop of the picture. Her posture was perfect, the way she held herself making her seem nothing short of perfection. Your eyes lingered on her stern face, where even in its rigidness she managed to stay unbelievably lovely. Yes, you could see why so many people in Columbia seemed so smitten with her. The more you stared, the deeper your frown grew.

You had always held a sort of resentment for Lady Comstock in your chest. Despite the fact that you never even met the woman (she was long dead before you even arrived in Columbia) and had no real reason to harbor such feelings, you couldn’t help but feel a sort of intense jealousy about her. When you were younger, you often picked your brain over it. Was it because so many people loved and respected her when you yourself were so neglected? Was it because people loved her so much that they are willing to devote their lives to her, even in her death? Or was it because she took her only daughter, your beloved friend, and locked her away so cruelly without so much as a second thought, or even a visit? You figured it was a mix of these things, but mostly, you chocked it up to her being one of those people you just didn’t like.

“Say what you will about Lady Comstock, the woman had an eye for fashion.”

Elizabeth’s voice suddenly sounded directly beside you and gave you a start, causing you to jump a bit. The girl shot you a confused glance as you collected yourself and weakly smiled at her.

“Yeah, that’s true. I was just thinking how lovely that blue dress is… Hey, I bet that would look marvelous on you, Elizabeth!” You smile grew as you playfully nudged your friend, hoping that she wouldn’t be able to pick up on the embarrassing thoughts you were having just moments before.

She smirked, “Heh, I’m not sure about-“

“You see what Comstock has done to my history,” Slate’s unwelcome voice came again, promptly cutting of Elizabeth and eliciting an irritated sigh from Elizabeth’s lips, “Now see how he has rewritten his own.”

You groaned, “Someone please tell that man just how rude it is to always interrupt people.”

Elizabeth smiled, “That would be nice… but I’m curious as to what he means about Comstock ‘rewriting’ his history?”

Both your and Elizabeth’s eyes traveled to Booker, where he met your gazes with a shrug.

“I have no idea. Let’s hurry up and move on and I’m sure Slate will love to tell us alllllll about it.”

You smiled at the grouchy, exasperated look on his face as you carried on after him.

~

In the next room, a grand statue awaited your arrival. 

The room itself was set up to look like the outdoors, complete with sweet smelling flower bushes, flooring that mocked a cobble road, and beautiful mural of the dusk sky plastered on the walls. The statue that stood in the center was just as sublime. It was of a gallant horse pulling along Lady Comstock, a small babe held up triumphantly in her hands. Elizabeth hurriedly trotted towards it, and began to read the inscription across its base.

“’The seed of the prophet lay in the womb of our lady but for a single week’,” her eyes grew wide, “… Comstock had a child… my books never mentioned anything about a child.”

With those words, your body began to break out in a cold sweat. A wave of unease broke upon, followed by a bout of extreme nausea. Elizabeth… She had no idea that the child of Comstock was her.

Your body began to quake slightly at this realization. It was true, throughout all your time together, you never once talked about Elizabeth’s parents. Sure, she knew she was the ‘Lamb of Columbia’, and she knew all about Comstock and Lady Comstock’s existence… but never ONCE was it brought up that they were her parents, even though you were no stranger to this fact. At first, you never spoke of them because you were instructed too, but as time carried on, you realized that you never really brought up Elizabeth’s family because you didn’t want to. Her time with you was her one source of release, you’d be damned if you spent what precious time you had discussing the people that caged her and brought her all this despair to begin with. But that wasn’t the only thing bothering you about Elizabeth’s familial situation… Was it really possible for a baby to be born after just one week? You highly doubted it, even with ‘miracles’ on Comstock’s side. No, the whole situation had always been nothing but fishy to you… 

But regardless, now you were in the most horribly problematic position in your life. You cursed yourself; how could you have never have brought this up to her, not even once?! How could she never have asked you if you knew her parents, especially when she had always been so curious?!

You were working yourself into a panicked stake, when you felt a large hand engulfing your shoulder. Your head whipped around to find Booker starring at you with mild concern. As your mortified eyes met his, his face clouded over a bit in recognition. As he began to understand the situation better, he gave your shoulder a slight squeeze in an effort to reassure you. You were surprised at how such a small gesture seemed to work so well, as your body instantly stopped shaking.

Booker trained his eyes back on Elizabeth, his voice coming out quieter than usual, “That’s… quite an omission. Can’t imagine that was by accident.”

Booker dropped his hand from your shoulder, and you felt a burn come to your cheeks. It was apparent that Elizabeth would someday learn about her ‘family’ (at this rate, maybe sooner than you’d like), but Booker… The mild way he was talking and acting… Was he trying to help lessen the blow on you? Your eyes traveled back to his face where you noticed that he looked almost just as nervous as you did. 

Elizabeth made her way to the other side of the statue, and continued reading, “… But the child took ill, and our lady prayed for the prophet’s heir day and night.”

After she spoke, her eyes locked on yours, “Huh. How about you, (Name)? You’ve lived nearly your whole life out in Columbia, did you know about this baby?”  
Finding it impossible to hold eye contact with your friend, you stared holes down at the ground, “Well… Um, you see…”

“We don’t really have time to talk about this right now,” Booker cut in, as he began to move forward, “Let’s focus on getting the Shock Jockey, and then we can discuss Columbia’s history.”

A small amount of relief flooded your body as you watched Elizabeth shrug slightly, her eyes lingering on the statue just a bit longer before she followed you and Booker into the next room.

~

‘Goddamn it.’

You cursed inwardly as the sights of the next room met your eyes. How could you forget that the story continued the farther you went into the memorial?

“That’s my tower!” Elizabeth exclaimed, pushing past you and Booker as she ran up to the huge display of Comstock, baby Elizabeth, and Monument Tower that stood before you.   
This, by far, was the most impressive of all three displays.

As Elizabeth approached, Comstock’s voice began to bellow from the speakers.

“Lo! While Daisy Fitzroy has murdered my beloved, she shall not have the child! She shall not come betwixt her and prophecy!”

Horror encompassed your body as another set of speakers began to sound, this one much louder than the previous, booming to a point where you felt the words reverberate to your core “The seed of the prophet shall sit the throne, and drown in flame the mountains of man!”

Your eyes stayed fixed on Elizabeth as you watched her shoulders stiffen at hearing the words. She quickly spun around, tears fast accumulating on the brim of her eyes. You watched as her face sunk further and further into a look of distress, and your heart cried out in pain as her shaky voice called out to you and Booker.

“Am I… Am I…?!”

You tried to speak. With all that you were, you tried to force the words from your mouth. You knew you should be the one to tell her… But despite all of your wishing, your lips remained sealed. Your voice was gone, taken by the defeated look in Elizabeth’s eyes.

“You’re Comstock’s daughter.” Booker’s level voice filled the room, bringing to light something Elizabeth should have heard long ago.

“No I can’t be! I… I can’t!” She spat, tears finally spilling down her red cheeks.

Booker continued, his voice keeping its calm air, “He wants you to follow in his footsteps.”

“Well I want a puppy, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna get one,” She screamed, her horror and sadness shaping into anger, “(Name), did you know this?! Why did you never tell me?! HOW COULD YOU HAVE NEVER TOLD ME?!”

“Elizabeth, please,” you pleaded, struggling to sound nearly half as calm as Booker did, “calm down, I-“

“Calm down? Calm down?!” She clenched her fists, “You have the GULL to tell me to CALM DOWN when you’ve been keeping something as big as this from me my whole LIFE?!”

“WELL YOU NEVER ASKED,” you screamed back, tears blurring your vision, “Dammit Elizabeth! When I was alone with you the last thing I wanted to do was bring up the MONSTERS that locked you away to begin with! And you never seemed to want to talk about your parents either, not even ONCE! Besides-“ You cut yourself off abruptly, not sure how to go about saying what you wanted to say next.

“… Besides what?” Elizabeth voice still had an edge to it, but more than anything, you heard the grief once more overtake the anger.

Things were silent for several seconds, before you unsteadily spoke again, “… Besides I… I never really believed it. I never really believed a woman could only be pregnant for one week and have a healthy baby, even with ‘miracles’ or whatever else they were spewing… And I never once believed that such horrid people could create someone as wholly and wonderfully good as you.”

And with those words, you let your body be overcome by sobs, as you buried your teary face in your unsteady hands. After a few moments of feeling utterly alone, you were surprised to feel a set of slender arms wrap around you protectively. Glancing up, your eyes met Elizabeth’s equally teary eyes.

“… I’m sorry.” She whispered hoarsely, before burying her face into the crook of your neck.

You returned her hug just as tightly, “I am, too.”

~

An awkward silence lingered in the air as you carried on through the tail end Lady Comstock’s memorial. Though Elizabeth and you had made amends, you still couldn’t help but carry around an ounce of guilt over keeping such news from her for such a long time. So, you fell a few steps behind them as they glanced around the final room of the memorial.

Booker sighed, “Seems to have quieted down a bit. Let’s take this chance to look around and see if we can find anything of use before we face Slate. He’s already made it quite clear that he ain’t going down without a fight.” 

You and Elizabeth silently nodded and set off in separate directions in search of supplies. While scouring through a dusty bookshelf in the corner, you happened upon something that caught your eye.

You tentatively reached your hand out and grabbed ahold of the Voxophone that lay forgotten under a stack of books. Once it was in your hands, you brushed a thick layer of dust from its surface, hoping that whoever had recorded it marked it as well. While in the process of searching, your hand managed to slip past the play button, causing a feminine voice to fill the air.

“To those who loved me, I was the most generous of souls.”

‘This is… This is Lady Comstock?!’ Your mind alerted, remembering the sound of her voice from a recording you had heard long ago.

The Voxophone continued, “There was no pain I would deny them, no betrayal I would not gladly give. And when I had scourged the hearts of all who loved me, the Prophet said,   
‘There is nothing you can do for which I will not forgive you! For God has granted me sight, and through his eyes even YOU are loved.”

You laid the Voxophone back down gently where you found it, a frown etched deep on your lips. You refused to give that woman any more of your thoughts or time.

~

After a rather fruitless search, you and your companions decided to carry on, ending you up outside of the building. You were relieved to get some fresh air after being cooped up in such a horrid environment, and let out a great sigh to show your relief.

“Hey now,” Booker spoke, “Don’t relax just yet. We still gotta find a way to get past this huge gate.” 

The three of you stopped in front of the wrought iron bars. Booker placed his hand firmly upon it, and gave it a strong shake. It rattled, but refused to budge. He sighed in annoyance, his hands falling to his hips in frustration as his eyes traveled the length of the fence, looking for any possible way to get through.

Just as Booker looked as if he was going to lose his cool, Elizabeth sauntered past the two of you, and with a shimmy, she managed to make her way through the bars of the gate to the other side. You stifled a laugh after seeing the look of pure irritation that spread across Booker’s face.

“I may be the only one who can fit through these bars,” Elizabeth calmly stated, “I’m a bit smaller than (Name), and you are way too broad, Booker. Let me scout ahead, see if there’s some way to move forward.”

You watched as your friend walked around a bit, her eyes vigilantly searching until she had found what she was looking for.

“Look!” She pointed, and as she did, a tear emerged, bringing a freight hook into your world, directly above you and Booker’s heads.

“… Is that?” Booker pointed to the freight hook. He seemed much less shocked seeing Elizabeth’s powers this time around, which relieved you.

You nodded, “It’s a tear, something only Elizabeth can bring to us… Told you they would come in handy.”

You watched as Booker averted his gaze, scratching the back of his head lazily in a weak attempt to fight off embarrassment. You smiled.

“Anyway,” he continued, “it’s a freight hook… That’s convenient.” 

Elizabeth smiled, “As I said, it’s a form of wish fulfillment. Anyway, I feel there are more around here where that came from. Whenever I get anxious, tears have a way of appearing…”

“And we can use those tears against Slate’s men. We have quite the advantage, it seems,” You spoke, “but… That hook seems pretty high up, can we really reach it from here?”

“We can if we get a running start,” Booker responded, lowering himself down so that he was crouched in front of you, his back facing you, “Here, grab on and don’t let go. I’ll get us over this gate.”

You nodded shyly, cursing in your head just how easily this man made you blush with the simplest of acts. Not wanting to hold up your progression, you climbed your way onto his back, wrapping your arms and legs securely around him, your heart began to beat violently. This was the second time in one day you had come in such close contact with Booker. The thought made your cheeks turn ever redder, as you felt his deep voice reverberate from within him.

“You ready?” He questioned quietly, turning his head a bit to check and make sure you were prepared.

“I am.” You responded quietly, your breath hitching as you felt his sky-hook free hand clamp down firmly onto the bare skin of your leg. You wondered if he could feel how hard your heart was beating on his back.

Without another second to spare, he was off and with a mighty leap, the magnetic pull of the sky hook caught onto the freight hook, and in mere seconds you went from dangling in the air, to making it down safely beside Elizabeth. Booker squatted a bit as he gingerly placed you back down on the ground, turning around as soon as your arms retracted from around him. He gave you a once over to make sure you were fine, before turning his attentions back towards Elizabeth.

“Alright, now we’re here. You manage to scope out anymore tears?”

She nodded, “Quite a few, all of which can aide us against those men up ahead.”

It was only after Elizabeth spoke that you realized that across the court yard stood a dozen more men, all whom luckily seemed oblivious to the fact that you had arrived.

Booker nodded, his face taking on the serious edge it always did as he prepared himself for a fight, “Good. I’m heading in, you ladies cover me.”

Just as you were about to follow Booker, Elizabeth grabbed onto your shoulder, tugging you back a bit. You turned around to face your friend, a look of confusion on your face.

“Elizabeth, what’re you-“

“Whatever is bothering you, let it go,” she cut you off, her voice clear and her tone to the point, “And don’t ask me what I am talking about, I can tell you have been incredibly troubled since we left that room where I learned about my… parents. But you shouldn’t be. (Name), we are almost to freedom! Right past this moment is Slate, and right past him is Paris, and then after that, all of Columbia will be a horrible nightmare. So let’s move on, the both of us. Together.” She finished by giving your shoulders a small, reassuring, squeeze.

Your confusion melted away, and you gave your friend a small smile, “You are right, absolutely right. It’s not even worth fretting over, let alone thinking about… Let’s go. Paris awaits!”

Just as you were tugging her along to aide in the assistance of Booker, her voice once again caught your ear.

“But you know, you really should be focusing more on not being so incredibly obvious around Mister Dewitt,” Your body froze for a brief second as Elizabeth snickered before carrying on, “come on, (Name), you are supposed to be a spoken for woman!!!”

“Shut up!” You called out to her, shoving her away as you trotted towards where Booker had already begun his assault, praying to any God that would listen that Elizabeth didn’t see excitable her words had made you.

~

A/N: Lookit you! Be all cute and lovey and stuff! You little turtledove!!!

Anyway, I like to call this chapter the fuck Comstock and his wife chapter because how dare they! The nerve! Guh!

Also, just a fun side fact (ha ha, yeah, FUN), as I was writing this chapter I was FREAKING OUT because the whole time I was writing the earlier childhood chapters with you and Liz I wanted to make it a point not to bring up her parents because I didn’t want her to know that Comstock was her dad until this point in the story/game, but then I was freaking out because I was like, “holy shit, at some point did I make you guys talk about Comstock and Lady Comstock being her parents?! I hope not, because I didn’t want to!!! GRRRUUUGGHHH!” So I looked over the chapters feverishly and I didn’t see that I did, but if I missed something and at some point had you say “HA HA COMSTOCK IS YOUR DAD YA NERD” or something like that to Liz please disregard it because I am an idiot and never meant that to happen!!! *Breathes*

So… That is that! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and again SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I will try my darndest to get the next one out MUUUUUUUUUUUUUCH sooner, but please be mindful of any delays! I love you guys, and as always, thank you, thank you, thank you for all the love and support! You guys are the greatest! I'll punch a man if he says otherwise! Till next time!


	24. The Hunt For Shock Jockey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slate was proving to be quite the difficult man to reach...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Busts onto the scene* I’M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
> 
> Hello everyone! It has been so long and I am so deeply sorry and GAH! THIS TOOK FOREVER, WHAT THE HECK???!!! But hey, I finally have the next chapter for you!!! 
> 
> I really planned to post this much sooner, but some angry internet god shunned me or something because for some reason the WIFI was out at my house for like two and a half weeks. What the actual hell, right?! It was pretty much the worst, let me tell you (I nearly went crazy, I need the internet to survive). It would only work for a few minutes at a time, so I was too afraid to try an upload the new chapter because I was worried it’d fuck up bad… So I had to wait for the cable company to come fix the mess. I’m sorry. Lame. :( 
> 
> BUT! GAH! HERE IT IS! I AM SO EXCITED TO BE BACK! And the good news about the internet being out is that I got to work a lot on upcoming chapters and some real shit is about to go DOWN. Be prepared!!!
> 
> As always, you all continue to be the loveliest and best human beings on this little dust ball of a planet and it is nothing short of an absolute pleasure to keep you all happy and entertained!!! Thank you all eternally for all your kind words and patience, you all deserve nothing but happiness and wonderful things forever!!!
> 
> Oh, and happy fourth of July! I hope it is full of bald eagles screeching victories for you!
> 
> AND ONE MORE THING!!! Recently I have become quite smitten with the 8tracks website (which is like a site where you can create music playlists based on themes, events, shows, books, fandoms, etc), and decided that I would try my hand at making my own playlist for Songbirds Calling! I picked a bunch of songs that have either inspired me, remind me of, or will actually be used/have been used in this fic. A lot of them (OK, pretty much all of them) are reader x Booker centric too, so ya know. ;D If you want to give it a listen, here is the link, lovelies: http://8tracks.com/shadowlobster/songbirds-calling
> 
> With that being said, get ch read on! This chapter seems a tad short, I’ll admit, but I’m really just trying to work through Slate to get to the meat (heh heh heh ;D) of the story! SO, READ ON LITTLE MOTH’S!

After the battle had ended (and a few other choice words had been uttered from Slate), your group trudged onward. 

The heaviness of the recent revelations and fights bore hard on you, keeping you soundless. You noted that the mood of your party had seemed to change as well, mirroring your own feelings. You were all ready and eager to move on- to get the shock jockey and scram, and you were all sick of Slate’s chasing game. From the discontented look plastered on Booker’s face, you could tell he was taking the brunt of the annoyance.

Eventually, the room you had been heading for all along came into view. As you walked towards the entrance, a small smile graced your lips.

“This is it,” you turned around to speak to your companions, “This is where we can FINALLY get some shock jockey!”

Booker glanced up at the sign that hung above the door, “Gift shop? They really sell that type of thing in a gift shop?”

You snorted in a disgusted manner as an image of Fink’s greedy face flashed from the back of your mind, “Where ever he can sell it, he will sell it,” you pushed the doors open, “Follow me.”

And with those words, you took you first tentative steps inside. 

There was spookiness in the air as a wave of cold rushed over you upon entrance. The whole place was obscured in shadows, and in the darkness every outline seemed sinister.

“Wow,” Elizabeth spoke, coming up beside you, “I thought gift shops were supposed to be happy little places full of trinkets and toys to commemorate your visit, not… this. “

Before anyone had a chance to respond, a light flashed on beside you, followed by the booming voice of a metallic Comstock patriot that was housed behind glass.

“That scared me,” you sighed, placing a hand over your alarmed heart as your eyes made contact with another patriot that had gone off on the opposite side of the first one, “but that’s really strange… I don’t remember there ever being Patriots in here…”

Two more Patriots began their speeches even further into the room, and as you listened to their mechanical bodies gyrate and their audacious voices call out in a hurried jumble, fear began to grip you. What was about to come couldn’t be anything good…

“Tin men, Booker. That’s what Comstock will turn us into!” Slate’s voice screeched, seeming to cause all the Patriots to short circuit and fizzle back into darkness.

However, just as the other patriots quieted, before you even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief, a light shone at the very end of the room showcasing one more lone patriot whom had the word ‘TIN’ painted in a deep red directly above him.

“WIRES AND GEARS TO REPLACE HEADS AND HEARTS!”

Just as Slate’s voice cut away, the Patriot went into a motion you had never seen before; one that chilled you to your core. Your body froze in fear as you watched the mechanical giant slam away at the glass he was incased in until it shattered. Stepping out, you noticed his impossibly large crank gun pointed your way.

“BOOKER!” Elizabeth screamed, as bullets began to whiz around you. You grabbed ahold of your friend’s hand and roughly tugged her next to you behind a large pillar. Booker followed suit by hiding behind the one opposite you, readying his own gun for the battle.

“I thought you said those things live EXCLUSIVELY behind glass now!!!” Booker yelled to you across the way.

“They do! Or at least they did,” you yelled back as you peaked your head around the pillar to see the Patriot lumbering ever closer, “I swear on my life I have never seen anything like this before!”

“Well, you have now,” Booker called back, tossing a rifle your way, “you said you had problems killing people, but you should have no probably taking down a machine, even if it wears a human face, right?” You nodded at him, which caused him to smirk, “Good. Now Elizabeth- you don’t happen to see any helpful tears of yours around, would ya?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Elizabeth spoke, and as she did, she set about pulling a turret into your world that immediately went to work at blasting away at the patriot, “I’ll keep my eyes open for any more helpful ones that may pop up.”

Booker nodded as he watched the Patriot get distracted by Elizabeth’s tear, “Come on, (Name), now’s our chance!”

So even though your legs were shaking horribly and your arms were so unsteady you weren’t sure you’d be able to hit anything let alone your target, you followed after Booker and stuck by his side as you both began your assault on the metal man. Feeling him beside you, you couldn’t help but let a smile slide across your lips momentarily. True, you were nearly petrified, but you also couldn’t help but feel thrilled to be fighting beside Booker. And even though you knew you were very much in danger, with him so close to you, even the bullets whizzing by didn’t feel like so much of the threat.

As it turned out, bringing down a Patriot was no easy task. Even with both you and Booker going at it and Elizabeth helping, all you managed to do was dent him and slow him down a bit, not cause any real damage. And as the Patriot trudged on an on, it was becoming increasingly obvious that this robot’s strength was far greater than your human stamina.

Booker was panting in front of the Patriot, ducking behind a ledge Elizabeth had pulled into the world; he managed to get some shots in in between the Patriots near nonstop firing. As they were fighting, you saw a chance yourself to attack the Patriot from the rear, and decided to take it. 

However, it was a moment you almost instantly regretted, when after just two shots, your gun ran out of ammo. You cursed yourself as you hurriedly scoured for Elizabeth, only to find that she was busy helping Booker. Your heart was pounding violently in your chest as you watched the Patriot begin to slow lurch his way around, ready to attack you. 

Your eyes flitted over your area, finding no place where you could seek cover. Gripping your gun, you took a deep breathe, and prayed that your next action would by some miracle actually work.

You lifted the gun up in the air, and began to go to town on the Patriots back. Strike after strike, you hit him as hard as you could. You weren’t sure how long you had been going at him when you began to notice him sinking to his knees, and chunks of wood, metal, and machinery where whizzing past your head and falling to the floor. With one final blow, the Patriot totally collapsed, one last electrical charge coursing through his body before he was completely out of commission.

You fell to your knees beside him, overcome with the exhaustion of all the energy you had put out. You dropped the deeply battered carbine from your hands, and as you glanced down, you saw that they were and covered in blisters and a few splinters, red and raw from gripping the gun so tightly. Breathing heavily, you jumped a bit as you felt a large arm wrap around your shoulder.

“Holy shit, (Name), are you alright,” Booker’s deep voice broke you from your battle haze, “Your face is bleeding.”

“I am,” you questioned, bringing you fingers gingerly up to your cheeks, you pulled them back to find them coated in a thin layer of red, “I guess I am… I must have gotten cut from chunks of him,” you nodded down to the fallen patriot, “but I’m okay… Just a little wore out.”

“I’ll say,” Booker smiled, “You were wailing on that guy damned hard. It was quite a sight to see, like some kind of goddess of battle.”

You blushed at Booker’s words, and smiled up at him triumphantly, “Well, God forbid we encounter any more of those menaces, but if we do, I’ll do my best to beat them just as good as I beat this one.”

“Quite a show you put on there, girl,” Slates voice once again boomed from above, causing you to wince, “Consider me impressed, you’ve grown up quite remarkably for having being raised by such an overstuffed coward. Now, as for Booker… Maybe you’re the man I remember-maybe not. It doesn’t matter, though. Comstock took out stories and scrubbed away our soul! Now… He’s coming for me, and when I’m gone all that will be left is the lie.”

Booker pulled himself away from you, and stood on his feet once more, “JUST GIVE US WHAT WE CAME FOR!” He screamed to the ceiling, the booming volume of his voice showing just how done with the situation he was.

After Booker’s outburst was met with silence, Elizabeth helped you to your feet, and you both slowly made your way towards the man. 

“The Shock Jockey should just be in a small inventory room the next room over. Follow me, I’ll lead you there.” You spoke, and began to unsteadily make your way to where you remembered the vigor being.

~

After a small bit of traveling, you had arrived at your destination. However, your heart immediately sank as your eyes made contact with the completely ripped apart room that seemed void of any of the vigor at all.

You sighed tiredly, “You know, I should be used to being disappointed by this place by now, but for some reason, it always gets me.”

“The whole place has been ransacked! There ain’t no shock jockey here.” Booker spat, annoyance etched on his features.

“Slate must have taken them, look!” Elizabeth spoke, pointing to the empty bottles and trail of purple viscous liquid that littered the floor.

“Well, there is no use sticking around here,” Booker spoke with a sigh, placing his large hand gently on top of your head in a gently pat, “Thank you for leading us here, regardless. If only we came a moment or two sooner.”

You nodded solemnly, while quietly relishing the warmth of his hand, “Yes, if only…”

Defeated, the three of you proceeded to backtrack towards the way you came, and everything was going normally until you spilled back out into the room where you fought the motorized patriot.

An electrical buzz noise was emanating from the room, and as you all made your way inside, you were quick to spot the source. Large purple crystals had been implanted on the floor and ceiling, and between them, bright and beautiful volts of electricity flowed menacingly.

“… Is that?” Elizabeth spoke, trotting closer to the purple current.

“Slate,” Booker responded, “he’s here.”

You made your way over towards where Elizabeth stood, your eyes staying trained on the Shock Jockey. It was the first time you had really seen it used outside of any sort of electrical device, and though you hated to admit it, the deep purple color of it and the way it sparked and shone was quite lovely. You were lost in this thought when Booker’s voice brought you back to earth.

“Let’s get going,” he addressed you and Elizabeth, “I feel like we are getting closer. We should be coming face to face with him soon.”

You both nodded and proceeded to follow the man in between the sparking vigor, and on to what awaited you next.

“Hey (name),” Booker broke the brief silence by calling you over his shoulder, “What did Slate mean back there? About you being raised by an ‘overstuffed coward’? And also, earlier than that, when you were talking about selling Shock Jockey… Was the man you were referring to the same one as Slate was?”

Your legs slowed drastically at his question, ‘Oh no,’ a cold sweat began to slowly form on the back of your neck, making its way around the rest of your body, ‘Please don’t make me explain Fink to you, not when I am so close to leaving this all behind me!’

However, before you even had a chance to open your mouth, Elizabeth spoke for you.

“Does it matter,” her words came out clear and calm, “I think we should be focusing on taking care of Slate first, and THEN we can have this conversation if we want to.”

Booker’s eyes traveled from you to Elizabeth, and after a second of deliberation, he nodded, “You’re right. Sorry I brought up, (name), you don’t have to tell me anything.”

You let out a small sigh of relief at his words; part of you was happy that you didn’t have to explain your relationship to that vile man to Booker, but part of you was also a little worried that maybe he took your actions the wrong way, as if you had no desire to open up to him…

Just as the thought crossed your mind, you felt a small nudge on your shoulder. Looking over, your eyes caught Elizabeth, who was shooting you a half smile that seemed to say ‘did I do the right thing?’ You smiled back at her, silently mouthing the words ‘Thank you’ before carrying on beside her after Booker.

~

After following behind Slate in a relentless chase (which felt like it had taken days, but you realized must have only been an hour or two tops), you came to an outdoors opening which had to be where Slate fled. 

As your group approached ever nearer, a loud horn sound emitted from the outdoor airspace.

“What was that?” Elizabeth questioned as you all took your first steps outside, peering into the sky at the three large airships buzzing above you.

“Comstock’s airships,” Booker responded, “he’s coming for Slate.”

“IT WAS SLATE WHO KILLED FOR HIS COUNTRY AT WOUNDED KNEE! IT WAS SLATE WHO STORMED THE GATES AT PEKING! SLATE!”

The man feverishly screamed to your group, drawing your attentions to where he stood on the balcony before you. Though he was too far away to make out much of how he looked, you did note that his whole body glowed a fierce purple shade; an effect of the vigor, no doubt. Just how much Shock Jockey had this man consumed? 

“Slate-“ Booker tried in vain to call out to the man, only to be cut off.

“Comstock is coming, Booker! But our lives won’t satisfy him, oh no! He won’t rest until he’s turned us into tin! But I won’t let him!!! He took my past, but that’s all he’s getting from me!”

“Just give us the vigor, we don’t need to do this!” Booker pleaded. However, it fell on deaf ears as Slate continued.

“Here you go, boys! A soldier’s death waits!”

Your heart sunk immediately as shots began to fire out at your group; ANOTHER wave of men coming to fight you. Your breathing got heavier as you rushed to a safe spot away from the rain of bullets, your shaky hands desperately trying to load the device. You quietly cursed yourself under your breath at how long this task was taking, when a large, calm hand enveloped your own, halting you from carrying on farther.

Your confused eyes shot up to meet Booker, who was looking down at you with a serious gaze, “You are at your limit, aren’t you?”

Tears began to burn your eyes. You hated to admit it, but he was right. Never in your life had you been put under such physical, mental, and emotional stress as you had now- and all in the span of half of a day. Your body was definitely feeling it as your weary eyes stared down at your quivering, torn up hands; your arms so incredibly tired you could barely lift them. You hated this. How could you possibly be so weak in the moments that you needed to be nothing but strong?

“I-I can still fight,” your voice wavered as you tried your best to not let your exhaustion show, “I’ll be alright, let me-“

Booker put his hand up to silence you, and his eyes radiating kindness as he spoke, “(Name), it’s alright. You’ve done more than enough so far, you can sit this one out,” he could see you begin to protest, but carried on anyway, “I mean it. It’ll be fine, the last thing I want is for you to get hurt, or worse,” a look of worry replaced the kindness his eyes held just second prior, his gaze traveled back over towards where Slate stood, “Besides, I’m rearing to get some Shock Jockey and get the hell outta here. This whole damn place seems to have a problem with old men on their high horses preaching incessantly.”

You chuckled lightly at his words, which caused him to smile. Booker Dewitt was amazing, even in the middle of a battlefield he still knew just how to put you at ease and make you laugh.

“BOOKER, CATCH!” Elizabeth called to the man, and as you watched, it came to your attention that Elizabeth had tossed him a rather impressive looking gun, the likes of which you had never seen before.

Booker smirked, “Well, this certainly gives me an edge. (Name), you stay here. Elizabeth, keep an eye on her for me.”

“You’re not the Booker Dewitt I remember! Tin man! TIN MAN!!!” Slate’s angry voice chided from above you, causing an immediate frown to appear on Booker’s face.

“Slate… You’ve gone too far.”

And without another word, he was off into the battle.

~

A man true to his word, Booker took down every threat before you. You sighed in relief as you watched him make his way back towards you and Elizabeth. He really was something else.

“You girls feelin’ alright,” Booker asked the two of you once he had made his way over to where you and Elizabeth stood. His breathing was heavy, and thick layer of sweat made his body glisten.

You smiled lightly hoping to mask the worry in your eyes, “Yes, we’re alright, but I should be the one asking you that… Do you need to rest for a bit? Taking on so many men at once on top of all the fighting we’ve already done, it must be putting a toll on you…”

“I appreciate the concern, but now is no time to be stopping,” he responded gruffly, “Slate has put on too much of a scene here, and Comstock is well aware of it. It won’t be long until we have his men flooding this place. We need to get outta here as soon as we can, come on.”

~

Your group was moving much quicker now as you trekked onward, propelled by the ever growing threat that Comstock’s men may be coming any moment. On top of that, none of you were exactly sure just where the hell Slate could be.

“… So I found this Voxophone,” Elizabeth’ voice cut through the quiet tension that hung around you by holding up said Voxophone in her hand, “I got it in that last room we stopped in… I think it belonged to Slate, should we give it a listen?”

Booker sighed deeply, “You really are something, you know that? We are smack dab in the middle of an incredibly dangerous situation, and here you are collecting people’s weird audio diaries. Incredible.”

Elizabeth frowned, “I just think they are interesting, okay? People really open up on these things, spill their life stories and such. It really gives you another perspective on people, you know? So, I was thinking maybe we can learn something more from Slate-“

“Fine, play it. I don’t care” Booker cut her off, waving a hand her way as if to dismiss what she was saying, “but I doubt you’ll find anything worthwhile on there.”

Without further conversation, Elizabeth flipped on the device, and your group was immediately met with Slate’s grizzled voice.

“My men and I are doomed, doomed as noble Custer was at Little Big Horn. But we shall not yield to Comstock and his tin soldiers! But my scout has seen him; Booker Dewitt is coming here to the Hall. Dewitt… We called him the White Injun of Wounded Knee for all the grizzly trophies he claimed. A man such as he… Might just grant us the peace we seek.”

A cold chill lingered in the air after the Voxophone had ended. Your eyes nervously glanced towards Booker’s back, which had seemed to grow rigid and cold. The White Injun… Just how much death had this man encountered in his life?

“Booker…” Elizabeth spoke, her voice trailing off into a near whisper.

Booker snorted, “See? I told you that old man would have nothing important to say.”

He didn’t even attempt to mask the bitterness in his voice.

~ 

You pushed through more and more rooms, your pace quickening to near sprinting in your search for Slate.

“Booker, slow down a bit,” Elizabeth called between gasps of breath, “(Name) and I are having a hard time keeping up!”

It was true that he was quite a ways ahead of you, but even so, you saw him shake his head in a ‘no’ gesture before he called back to the both of you.

“I gotta get to Slate before he makes off with the Shock Jockey!”

You noticed there was a hint of desperation in his voice as he spoke, and that in turn caused you a bit of worry. What would happen if Slate escape and you never got any of the   
Shock Jockey? Or even if they did find him, was there any guarantee that he had any left? He did seem to be using it left and right…

Elizabeth must have noticed your concern, because you felt a small hand gently touch your back.

“Don’t worry so much, (name),” you turned your attentions towards her to meet her smiling face, “We’ll find him, and we’ll get the Shock Jockey! We can’t be far now, we’ve gone through nearly the entire building.“

Just as she had finished speaking, the two of you nearly collided into Booker’s back. He stood firmly in front of an open doorway, his shoulders heaving slowly up and down from his mad dash that took place just seconds prior. Halting immediately, you and Elizabeth stared up at him, confused as to why he had stopped.

“Booker, what’s wrong,” Elizabeth asked, her shoulders also lifting in sinking as she struggled to attain normal breathing, “Why did you just suddenly stop when-“

Before she even had a chance to finish speaking, Booker stepped to the side, giving you and Elizabeth a full view of what awaited you inside the room.

There, directly in front of you, laid the slumped over body of Cornelius Slate.

~ 

A/N: *Siiiiiiiiiiigh* I’m pretty excited for Slate to be out of the picture. I didn’t realize how annoying he actually was until I had to write about him so much. Ugggggh. Good riddance, you ‘ol coot!

Also, Incredibly Bothered Booker strikes again!

Anyway, way to take down that Patriot girl! Hell yeah! Kick ass! I’m sorry to say though, there is gonna be hella more. Oops. At least you know their weak spot???

So, what did you guys think? A lot of movement and action in this, and those things I don’t necessarily consider my strong suits… I hope I did okay, and I hope you all enjoyed it thoroughly!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Again, I’m sorry it’s a little short… I promise with my entire robotic heart that the next chapter will be up HELLA sooner than this one was!!! 

Thank you so much for all your love and support! You guys really keep me going! Until next time little moths!!!


	25. Gonna Carry That Weight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life had a funny way of knocking you down when you already thought you couldn't be lower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Creaking noises pierce the quiet night’s air as my tightly sealed coffin slowly begins to open* Uh… Hey guys.  
> It’s been awhile, huh? Like, awhile as in OVER A YEAR. Wow. Way to go, Mothra. What in the goddamn.
> 
> First and foremost, let me apologize. I hate to be one of those people that begins a fic, gets real into it, and then just up and disappears for an ungodly amount of time. I know how frustrating that is to both reader and writer, so I was trying to avoid that life. But, to be completely honest, for quite a while my life had become a jumbled mess. I won’t bore you with hella details, but since I last left you guys I had moved in with my boyfriend to a place which was honestly slightly over our budget. Said relationship of 4 years with boyfriend turned sour, and things became pretty toxic living in such close quarters, so we broke up and moved out and had to deal with all the stress that came with that. In the midst of moving out prematurely from our lease, I totaled my car (don’t worry, everyone involved was OK, just not my car) and had to put money I didn’t really have towards a new one. I was having problems with both my laptop (which honestly I still am cause she old as heck) and my tablet, so writing anything had to be done in the library. And all sorts of work drama was going on. So yeah, fun.
> 
> BUT! Things are much better now! I’m move back in with my sister, I just got hired to a much better job, and I have a new car (which payments suck but eh). And now that things have calmed down, I can get back to writing!!! YAY! 
> 
> I want to thank each and every one of you for being so damn awesome. Several people reached out to me over the past year through reviews, emails, tumblr, etc, not just to check up on the fic, but to check up on me personally. Honestly, I am blown away. I feel like I say this all the time, but I only say it cause it’s true, it is such an honor and a treat writing for you guys. I started this fic fueled by my love of the Bioshock universe, and somewhere along the time of writing it, I became fueled by the happiness that came from writing a story that made so many other people happy. Thank you, thank you, thank you. So much! You guys are the absolute, and I wouldn’t trade the lot that reads my silly little story for the world. I love you guys, and hope to always keep making you happy (or break your heart because this is, after all, a Bioshock fic :P)!!!
> 
> But enough blabbing! It’s been over a year and you want to read a chapter, not some mushy life update! So, here it is little moth’s! Chapter 25 (FINALLY)!!! Shit really goes down in this one, and to make up for such a long absence, it’s a pretty beefy chapter. So, without further ado, carry on and enjoy!!!

The three of you quietly approached the fallen form in front of you, none of you entirely sure how to react. Just moments ago this man was giving you absolute hell… In fact, that seemed to be all he had done his whole life, give people hell. Was he finally down for the count? You weren’t entirely sure.

Your eyes traveled to Booker, who seemed to be just as dubious about the situation as you were. You took note of his eyes widening a bit, and you followed his gaze to see the full bottle of Shock Jockey resting limply in Slate’s arms.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched Booker carefully lean down to grab the vigor, ‘Finally! I was beginning to think we’d never get it.’

But just as the thought had crossed your mind, Slate sprung to life. Lunging at Booker, he grabbed at his hand before he could grasp the bottle. Startled by his suddenness of his actions, you jumped, your hand latching onto Elizabeth’s arm in fright. 

“You’re not done here, soldier,” Slate screamed up at Booker, and even though his voice sounded strong, you could tell by his strained breathing and saggy body that he had reached his limit. 

“Eat everything that’s on your plate,” he continued, dropping Booker’s hand, and offering a gun up to him instead, “Finish it!”

Your eyes stayed glued to the scene as you watched Booker wrap his hand around the gun firmly. His eyes darted from the killing device in his grasp, to the deflated man who rested at his feet. You saw a fierce glare pass through his stormy eyes, and you knew his decision had been made.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Booker flicked the safety off the gun. As he went to lower the weapon, Slate grabbed hold of it, tugging himself a bit closer to Booker as he breathily choked out his last words.

“They haven’t changed you, Booker,” he wheezed, his shaky fist leveling the gun so that it was resting directly in the middle of his forehead, “Not… one… bit.”

Heaviness began to grow in your chest, and your eyes quickly shot to Elizabeth as you saw Booker’s finger begin to descend on the trigger. You were no friend of Slate’s, if anything, the only emotion you felt for him was resentment. These things, however, didn’t change the fact that he was a living human, and not only that, but someone who seemed to play a somewhat significant part in Booker’s past, for better or for worse. And that was a reason to be melancholic about the situation, and also the reason you couldn’t bring yourself to watch.

Elizabeth seemed far braver then you, however. As your eyes stayed glued on her, you watched as she stayed focused on the scene, up till the gun went off. Your heart broke a bit as you saw the horror pass over her face, her eyes reflecting the gloom that hung heavy in the air. After the deed was done, she turned away as well, her hands reaching up to cover her face.

You heard the clank of metal hitting the ground, and finally mustered up the courage to look over at the scene. Booker had cast the gun aside, and finally got his hands on the one thing that you had spent this whole crazy mess looking for.

He held the bottle in front of him, his cold eyes staring hard at it, “Shock Jockey,” he mumbled, “This better be worth it, Slate.”

With a quick yank, the cap was off, and Booker wasted no time guzzling down the liquid. You watched in a sort of horrid fascination as the vigor kicked into effect; the veins in his arms glowing an inhuman purple, as jagged crystals appeared briefly in his hands, sparking and zapping the air around him. His face contorted into an intense look of discomfort, with his brow deeply furrowed and his teeth clenched in a tight grimace. All that, mixed with Slate’s freshly spilt blood that dotted his clothing, made him look just like a monster. A chill ran down your spine at that realization.

After several seconds past, the vigor’s initial effects died down, and Booker was more or less coming around to his normal self.

“… I suppose it was mercy,” Elizabeth was the first to speak up, breaking the silence between you, “Comstock’s men would have taken him.”

“I suppose it was.” Booker spoke quietly, his eyes traveling down to the fallen Slate. His expression was nearly impossible to read.

“… Do you ever get used to be,” Elizabeth ventured to ask, her voice coming out unsteady and shy as the words passed her lips, “… the killing?”

Booker‘s gaze traveled from Slate up to you and Elizabeth. For a moment, his eyes focused on the two of you, the same unreadable expression staying firm on his face. However, in his eyes, for a brief instance you saw a flash of the deep pain this man had been toting around nearly his entire life. Quickly, he turned away from the two of you, as if the sight of you was too much to handle.

“Faster than you can imagine.”

~

You had nearly made your way back through the entirety of the Hall of Heroes, on your way to the gondola to get you to freedom. Now, more than ever, you and Elizabeth were so incredibly close to your new lives outside of Columbia, you should have been feeling nothing short of jubilant... But nothing felt right.

A dense silence had encompassed your trio as you hastily made your way back to the gondola. A few of Comstock’s men and what was left of Slate’s crew would pop up time and again, but without fail Booker would take them down fast and skillfully, not once taking the time to ask for your help. He just kept trudging through, his face unreadable and his body stiff. 

The truth was you were worried about him. In fact, you were so worried about him it was all you could manage to think about. You knew you should be staying alert for possible threats, or even be feeling happiness over scoring the Shock Jockey and being that much closer to Paris with Elizabeth… but you just couldn’t. Booker killing Slate kept playing over and over in your head, as well as Slate’s remarks about Booker at Wounded Knee. All the horrible memories that must have been dug up for him… It was eating away so badly at you; you could only imagine what it had done to him.

You were nearly back at the entrance when you worked up the courage to speak to him.

“Booker,” you questioned softly, “… are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he shot back curtly, not even bothering to look your way.

You frowned, “Are you sure you are fine? I know you’ve just been through a lot, and-“

“I said I am FINE,” his voice thundered. This time, he shot you a warning gaze that made your whole body shudder.

“Hey now,” Elizabeth spoke up, standing protectively in between you and Booker, “Look Mister Dewitt, there is no need to turn sour, we are just worried about you!”

Booker stopped at her words, and turned his full attentions towards the two of you. Upon hearing her speak, you noticed his rigged posture go lax a bit, and his face began to soften. Elizabeth sighed softly, before speaking again.

“Booker… we can tell what Slate said bothered you. You showed us sometimes you have to do what’s necessary to survive.”

Booker frowned in a disgusted manner, “There’s survival… and then there’s finding pleasure in the act.”

“Booker,” you went to speak, but he cut you off.

“Look, you both seem like a decent enough sort,” his eyes lingered on yours a bit, before with a sigh, he continued, “That said, the less you know about me, the better.”  
You watched as Booker turned back around, and preceded onward, Elizabeth following behind in tow. After a few steps, she turned back to you, holding her hand out for you to take. The morose expression on her face mirrored your own as you wrapped your fingers up in hers, and let her tug you along.

You couldn’t explain to yourself fully why you felt the way you did, dreams and weird ghosts of memories aside, it had been established from the beginning that Booker was just a means to get you out of Columbia and nothing more. 

But, if that was the case… then why did his words hurt you so damn bad?

~

You had exited the Hall of Heroes, and began making your way back toward the gondola, only stopping with brief encounters of opposition arose. Luckily for you, most of Comstock’s men seemed to be holed up taking care of whoever was left of Slate’s men.

The three of you were standing in an elevator encompassed by an uncomfortable silence that was magnified by the boxed in quarters. You were beginning to get antsy the closer you got to your goal, your incessant foot tapping and rigorous nail biting were signs of this. Part of you was excited, but a larger part knew that every second counted now. It wouldn’t be long until Comstock’s airships would be done with The Hall Of Heroes, and then they’d be coming for you.

“You know, you’re not gonna have any fingers left if you keep gnawing away on them like that.”

Booker’s voice startled you from your thoughts, as you lifted your gaze to him with a blush, “Oh, sorry, I hope I’m not bothering you two! I’m just feeling a little jittery, is all.”

Booker shook his head, “You aren’t bothering me one bit…,” he chuckled, “In fact, I can’t really blame you, I’m starting to feel cramped myself. Can’t this damn elevator move any faster?”

Silence was beginning to creep up on your group again after your exchange, when Booker once again went to speak.

“You know Elizabeth,” he called out, turning his attentions towards your friend, “I don’t think I understand how you… do what you do. These tears.”

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully before speaking, “I always thought of them as doors. When I was little, I didn’t just open the ones I found. I remember MAKING them.”

“Making them?” Booker shot you a confused look, as if he was hoping you elaborated. You shrugged back at him; it was beyond your understanding as well.

“I could go wherever I wanted, but I always wanted to come back…” Elizabeth trailed off.

“To what?” Booker spat.

Elizabeth looked at you, “When I was much smaller, I wasn’t really sure. But as I got older, I always came back for (Name). I couldn’t abandon her. She had become my family, and I couldn’t leave her behind.”

A loving smile spread across both of your faces, as you reached your hand over for her to grab. She was happy to latch onto it, giving it a tight squeeze in the process. Seeing the two of you, even Booker, who just moments ago was so agitated, gave a small smile.

The elevator had finally made it to the bottom floor, and opened with a small ding. As your group exited (you and Elizabeth taking the lead), Booker spoke out behind you.

“I still don’t understand, though,” he called out, walking up so that he was beside the two of you, “How do you even DO that… whatever it is?”

“You know how I said I had plenty of time to read? Well, I tried to figure it. We both did,” Elizabeth nodded to you at this point before continuing, “We read literature on physics and other such things together in an attempt to make some sense of it.”

“Yeah,” Booker snorted, and incredulous smile gracing his lips, “What did that teach ya?”

Elizabeth’s eyes shot his way, “That there is a world of difference between what we see and what is.”

You carried on in quiet after those words sunk in, your mouth closed tight in a thin line as you pondered just how right Elizabeth’s words were.

~

Finally back at the Gondola, Booker wasted no time in starting it back up with the Shock Jockey you had worked so hard to obtain. After the power station was sparked to life, Elizabeth made fast work of pulling hard on the lever, making the gondola creak to life, and head your way.

“It’s coming!” You called out elatedly, a bright smile lighting your face as your whipped your head towards Elizabeth. The expression on her face mirrored your own.

But as if the whole world were conspiring against you, the smiles soon turned to frown as above you a grating, bellowing horn sounded. That horn only meant one thing… Comstock was about to make an announcement.

“He will abandon you my sweet Elizabeth,” Comstock’s voice boomed from multiple speakers above you, causing his voice to take on an eerie echoing effect, “Once he has what he needs he will leave you alone! What else could you expect from a liar and killer of women?”

“Comstock,” Booker muttered next to you, “Shit… We are so close…”

“And (Name)”, hearing your voice from Comstock’s lips caused your hair to stand on end, a shiver slinking down your spine, “sweet (Name)… Would you truly abandon your mother and father so easily? The very woman who gave you life and the man who made it worth living, traded for a savage beast? Despicable!”

You clenched your fists tightly, your shoulders shaking in fear and in anger. You felt Booker’s eyes on you, only making you feel smaller and more helpless. 

‘Shut up,’ Your mind screamed, ‘Just SHUT UP. We are so close… So goddamn close!’

It was Elizabeth who ended up answering Comstock’s taunts, “Father… Prophet… whomever you are,” her voice called out clear and strong, a sound which made your fears begin to die away, “(Name) and I are leaving and there is naught you can do to stop us!”

The speaker squealed to life once more, this time, his voice coming out even more distorted sounding then before, “Oh sweet child… that’s where you are wrong.” 

As if seeming to come from the woodwork, men took no time in swarming you. They charged, guns ready, eyes burning with the lust to kill. The scene seemed to fold out in slow motion before you. The men came ever closer. Booker drew his gun. Elizabeth tugged on your arm. The men began to fire. Booker screamed something your way as Elizabeth continued to pull on you, she seemed to be screaming too. But you couldn’t look away. You just stood where you were and stared.

‘We are so God. Damn. Close.’

Just as the thought crossed your mind, and large hand wrapped tightly around your arm and pulled you with such force it nearly knocked the wind out of you. You ended up colliding with an unfamiliar broad chest, as you hard a deep echoing laugh escape the man whom had caught you.

“Well hello there sweetheart,” the singsong voice chided, “So good to see you still alive.”

Suddenly, it came to you. That voice… You had heard to before not too long ago. Your eyes darted up and met with sinister gaze of the police chief who just days before, tortured you until you were broken.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue,” he laughed down at you, and you winced as his spittle hit your face, “well, I can’t say I blame you. You’ve been through so much, little bird! Tell me, did that man hurt you? Did he touch you? Well, no worries, because my men will make sure he gets what’s coming to him. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, we can even let you pick out the plot we’ll bury his sorry corpse in!” 

Again the man laughed, thoroughly enjoying putting you through even more torture. However, unbeknownst to him, throughout the whole conversation, your eyes had been darting from him, to Booker, and then to Elizabeth. Your team was outmatched, true, but surprisingly, you all still had the upper hand. Any men who cornered Elizabeth (and there were quite a few who tried) were quickly brought to their knees with a well-placed kick, and then taken out by Booker, who was doing an expert job not only fighting off Elizabeth’s pursuers, but his own as well. The man was a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it. 

So you let the chief drone on. The longer he was preoccupied with you, the more time your team had to take down the people around you. Besides, without their chief barking orders, the pawns were sure to fall quicker.

Just as a sense of victory began to cloud your view, the chief’s rough hand clamped down on your chin, violently forcing your full attentions back his way. He pulled you so close, your noses where nearly touching.

“…You know, there was once a time Fink offered you to me,” the lust in his voice made your blood instantly run cold, your body turning rigged as stone. He noted this, and smiled viciously in response before speaking again, his rancid breath burning your nose, “at first I was confused; surely Fink knew I was a spoken for man, he’d met my old lady numerous times! But then, I caught on,” you felt a hand begin to snake slowly up your leg, inching closer and closer to places it had no business being, “You know… You truly are one of the prettiest girls in Columbia. Come with me peacefully and I’ll give you a fucking better than that wild dog over there or that spud eating boy you run around with could ever give you.”

With those words, you completely snapped.

It was hard to say what happened in the next few blurred seconds. You must have hit the chief, because he buckled to the ground, releasing his grip on you. Your eyes darted around the scene before they fell upon a hand cannon near your feet. With no further hesitation, you grabbed it. You heard the chief scream, and could tell he was about to get up and strike. You knew if he reached you again, you may not make it out alive. 

Your eyes locked onto his.

You pulled the trigger.

And now, he was on the ground. No movement, no breathing. His head laid completely still, a shocked expression forever engraved on it as blood pooled around him, making it seem as if he had a crimson halo. 

You had killed a man.

Little time was given for you to dwell on it, however, as Elizabeth’s piercing scream rang out behind you.

“LET GO OF ME,” she yelled, causing you to swivel around angrily. She was trashing wildly in the grasp of two of the Chief’s men’s arms as they struggled to keep their hold on her and drag her away.

“Hurry up,” one of the men yelled, “We gotta get her outta here NOW.”

“I know, I’m trying as hard as I-“

Neither men were given any more time to speak, however, as you took out one, and Booker took care of the other.

In the span of less than five minutes, you had become a killer of not just one man, but two.

~

Things around you seemed hazy after that. Booker and Elizabeth rushed to your side, noticed what you had done, and did their best to console you. But for whatever reason, the words just weren’t coming through to you.

Long before the fight had ended, the gondola had arrived. Now that no other threats where in the vicinity, you all boarded the gondola. You made your way to the corner, and huddled by yourself as the gondola was lurched into action. Elizabeth walked closer, gently brushing the hair out of your face as she past you by. You closed your eyes tightly as tears began to stream down your face. They were not sad tears as much as they were scared tears. You don’t know what frightened you more, the fact that you were able to kill so easily, or the fact that their deaths didn’t bother you in the profound way you felt they should.

“Hey,” Booker spoke softly, and though your face was hidden, you could feel him kneel down in front of you, “You did the right thing.”

“How can killing ever be the right thing,” you choked out, violent sobs ravaging your body, “I took two lives! TWO lives in the blink of an eye! I am a monster!”

“Those were two lives that would have just as quickly taken yours if they had a chance. That, or woulda done worse,” You felt Booker’s warm hand fall upon your head, “Look. Wounding people can only get you so far. Just hurting them won’t always cut it. Those who are hurt are just gonna heal and get back at you again, this time much harder. While I was fighting, I saw what the sonuva bitch was doing to you…,” you felt Booker’s grip tighten on your head, “I saw how he had you cornered and given you no opportunity to escape. I also saw what you didn’t see, and that was his free hand holding a gun at you the whole time he was talking. (Name), if you hadn’t of gotten him, you can be sure that you wouldn’t be here with us right now.”

Booker’s words seemed to have an effect on you, as your sobs began to slowly settle down, 

Your tear blurred eyes looked up to Booker, “Maybe so… But that other man, what about him? I killed him and he wasn’t even armed!”

“If you hadn’t of gotten that man, then I could very well be in Comstock’s clutches right now,” Elizabeth chimed in, seating herself next to you, “And that, my dearest girl, would be a fate too unspeakable to even consider.”

“You know… when animals are cornered or they feel their young are threatened, they let their instinct take over and fight till the death,” Booker added in, “It’s called survival. You did what you had to do.”

You frowned at him, wiping some of the tears from your eyes, “So what, now you are comparing me to an animal?”

He smirked at you, “No, I’m saying what you did was natural, protecting is in your blood. And as it turns out, you are damned good at it. You are a surprising force of nature.”

Even through all the heartache and sorrow, it was remarkable that Booker Dewitt still had the power to make your heart race.

You felt Elizabeth’s arm wrap around your shoulder, and your head fell against her chest as she pulled you into a tight hug, “(Name), you are my hero,” she spoke softly into your ear, “thank you for saving me.”

The kindness of these people was too much for you. As you lost yourself in Elizabeth’s embrace, tears dampening her battle worn clothing.

~

As the gondola was nearly to the platform, things had settled down immensely. Though you were still quite badly shaken, you had pulled yourself together enough to once again feel excitement; excitement that only seemed to mount and mount the closer the ship came to you. Things had been quiet after the conversation, until Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak.

She was leaned against the side of the gondola, when her eyes traveled over towards Booker, “You know Mister Dewitt, when you were unconscious on the beach you kept repeating a woman’s name. Anna.”

Hearing that made your chest tighten, ‘A woman… from Mister Dewitt’s past?’ You shook your head lightly. Why were you letting that thought bother you so much? Weren’t you going to be saying goodbye to him soon anyway? That thought succeeded in making you sadder.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Booker shot back, all traces of the gentleness he had just shown moments ago was now gone.

Elizabeth seemed thrown off as she stuttered, “I-I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have pried…. Where are you from, Mister Dewitt?”

“New York.” He responded curtly, obviously not interested in answering Elizabeth’s line of questioning.

“Really,” Elizabeth smiled, “(Name), isn’t that where you are from?”

“Uh, yes,” you responded quietly, “yes, I was born and raised there until I came here…”

“Huh, interesting that you and Mister Dewitt were so close by,” she smiled at you before continuing on, “Anyway, what did you do in New York, Mister Dewitt?”

Booker sighed, “Business much like this... Nothing that really caters writing on a resume.” The last part came out so bitterly, you thought he may spit to get the bad taste out of his mouth.

Elizabeth simply smiled at him, “It’s a fine thing you came along when you did!”

Booker snorted, shooting Elizabeth an incredulous look, “How’d you think I ended up here? I gambled. And now I owe money to men you don’t want to be in debt to. I come here to pay it back. Me busting you out- what do you think that was? Charity?”

A deep frown engulfed your face, followed by a sigh. How could one man make your heart beat so fast with his word, and then absolutely crush it the next minute?

“Who sent you?” Elizabeth continued.

“Somebody who was willing to take my marker in exchange for you.” He replied coldly.

By the time the words had left his lips, you had made it to the landing platform of the airship.

~

As you were riding the final elevator to get you to your destination, Elizabeth again ended up being the one to break the silence as she spoke to Booker.

“So, looks like they call you the False Shepherd.” She called out nonchalantly, leaning against the elevator wall. You were impressed by how calm she managed to remain.

Booker smirked at her, “And you the lamb.”

Elizabeth returned the smirk, “Let’s not call each other that.”

Booker shrugged, “Suits me.”

The doors of the elevator opened, and you felt you may fall over dead from the sheer excitement of seeing the ship before you. You looked over at Elizabeth, who met your gaze with a twinkle in her eye and a smile illuminating her face. She was feeling the same way you were.

“Mister Dewitt, how do you figure they’d know you’d be coming?” You could tell from the quiver in her voice she was doing the best to keep her cool.

“Either they got a prophet on their side,” Booker lazily drawled.

“Har har.” Elizabeth chided.

“… Or them that hired me also wrote the signs.” Booker finished his voice much more serious this time.

“Why?” You asked, finally able to get control of your emotions and speak.

He sighed, “Got me.”

~

Your heart continued to beat mercilessly in your chest as you took your first steps aboard the airship.

Glancing around, you couldn’t help but marvel at how grandiose and luxurious the inside of the vessel appeared, despite what little space the decorator had to work with.

“Well, sure is fancy looking,” Booker grunted beside you, “I guess I wouldn’t expect any less of this Comstock fella.”

You nodded, “Yes, it seems we will be headed to Paris in style, that’s for sure!”

At the mention of Paris, you noticed that Booker faltered a bit, his body tensing at the mention of your destination. Finding it odd, you turned your full attentions his way, only to have him turn his back on you completely. With a concerned frown, you opened your mouth to confront him. However, Elizabeth ended up beating you, as her sing song voice called out behind you.

“Ha, it doesn’t seem like this style is to Mister Dewitt’s liking,” she joked, as she gave you a small pat on the back, shimmying her way around you with a huge smile on her face,   
“But what does it matter what the ship looks like? As long as we get to Paris, we could be riding on a pile of floating garbage for all I care!”

You smiled at her in return, deciding bringing up Booker’s odd behavior now would only dampen Elizabeth’s mood-something you absolutely couldn’t have happen at a time like now.

“Anyway, come on,” the eager girl called, her blue eyes sparkling with delight as she latched on to Booker’s hand and pulled him towards the controls, “let’ go!!! I cannot bare to wait a minute longer! (Name), come up here! I want to witness the beauty of Paris with you by my side!”

You laughed at your friends childlike innocence, “Elizabeth, we won’t reach Paris for a few hours, you silly girl,” you waved your hand a bit as your eyes came in contact with a restroom towards the back of the ship, “You two start up the ship, I need to freshen up for a second…”

You made your way over to the restroom, giving Booker and Elizabeth a departing glance as you closed the door behind you. Once safely locked inside, you let yourself fall to your knees, small tears trickling down your cheeks.

‘This is it,’ You thought to yourself, holding your hand over your mouth so that your companions would not hear your sobs, ‘We are finally going to be free. Dear God… Thank you!’

After pulling yourself together, you grabbed on to the sink beside you, and used it to pull yourself up. Once you were standing, you made eye contact with yourself in the mirror, a small gasp escaping your lips. It was hard to recognize you with your face caked in so much grime and dotted with so many wounds, and your hair so strewn about it looked as if you were caught in a hurricane. You hurriedly set to work trying to make yourself somewhat more presentable.

You let a small chuckle escape your lips as it dawned on you how upset your mother would be with you. A distant memory crept into your mind at the thought of your mother, one from when you were very young and your parents were still together. It was a soggy summer’s evening, and your sister and you had walked to where your father worked to meet up with him after his shift. After making your way back with him, you happened to notice some crawdads crawling around near the creek you were beside. Seeing them piqued you and your sister’s interests, and your father wasted no time in catching the little buggers for you to see. Pretty soon, you were joining in with your father in catching them. Catching crawdads lead to catching frogs, which lead to sloshing around in the creek. You were all having the time of your life, until you slipped and cut your cheek open, and your father rushed you all home. When your already worried mother (you did end up being awful late) saw the three of you come home covered in mud, pond water, twigs, etc.; your beautiful dresses ruined and your hair complete disasters, well… you were fairly certain the phrase ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ was coined specifically for that moment. Your poor father slept in another room for weeks.

Your heart ached while thinking of the bittersweet memory. Your father… Was he still alive? Would you finally get the chance to see him again? And your mother… you were leaving her behind in this awful place… Would you really be fine living with that for the rest of your life?

No. It was too late to have regrets now. Your mother chose this life; it was high time you chose your own path as well.

Just as you had steeled your resolve, a sound you weren’t expecting to hear came to your ears. It was crying… Elizabeth’s crying, to be exact.

You froze. Why was she crying? Were they tears of happiness from finally escaping Columbia? They sure didn’t sound that way.

“Will you just turn around and talk to me, and we-“ Booker’s muffled voice sounded next. You didn’t like the tone of it at all. Was he… was he hurting Elizabeth?

You clenched your shaking fists, overcoming your nerves, you roughly pushed the bathroom door open, trying the best you could to remain calm for whatever happened to await you outside.

What you saw took you completely off guard.

You had opened the door just in time to see Elizabeth swing a huge wrench, hitting Booker square in the head. With a grunt and a loud thud, the man had fallen to the floor. Your eyes widened in shock at the scene the played before your eyes, your mouth agape in shock. What was going on here?! What had happened?!

“Elizabeth!” You yelled, garnering her attention. In her eyes you could see nothing but rage.

“Do you see that, (Name),” Elizabeth’s breathing was uneven, as she pointed the heavy wrench up at the coordinates of your destination, “Do you know where that leads, huh? New York! NEW YORK,” she threw the wrench down at her feet and hurriedly turned around to mess with the dials, “That bastard… He never wanted to take us to Paris at all! But don’t worry… I think I can get us there.”

As what had happened finally sunk in, you rushed your way over to the scene. Booker Dewitt sprawled on the floor; his fluttering eyes told you he was coming in and out of consciousness. Tears burned in your eyes as you stared at the large bloody welt that Elizabeth had inflicted upon his head. You fell to your knees beside him to get a better view of the damage. How could this have happened? Why did this happen?!

“(Name), leave him,” Elizabeth coldly called over her shoulder, “Come help me run the ship!”

“Elizabeth…,” your voice came out in a tired, weak whisper, “Elizabeth… You really hurt him…”

“So what,” she spat incredulously to your concern, “He’s a liar!!! Now leave him and come help-“

“YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM!” You screamed, your tear blurred eyes radiating rage as you stared at your friend.

‘Why… Why am I so angry,’ You thought briefly to yourself, ‘Mister Dewitt betrayed us… This whole time he was just using us for his benefit. I should be angry at him, not Elizabeth! Then why… why does seeing him lying here on the floor make me so damned LIVID?’

At first, Elizabeth’s eyes looked completely shocked. But after letting your words sink in, her eyes began to mirror your own. She was becoming consumed by anger.

“AND MAYBE HE’S BE BETTER OFF DEAD,” She screamed, her voice cracking as you saw tears fall from her eyes, “HE BETRAYED US! HE WANTED TO SELL US OFF TO SOMEONE! (Name)… How can you be taking his side right now?”

The last part of her outburst was spoken so dejectedly, it broke your heart. Staring up at her innocent, tear stained eyes, you found yourself unable to answer her. She was absolutely right, how could you be taking Booker’s side right now?!”

As you were struggling with what to tell your friend, your eyes grew huge in horror as a bright red ship with all too familiar markings came into view. You’d recognize those horrid sprawling’s anywhere.

The Vox Populi. They had found you.

“Elizabeth, look!” You exclaimed, pointing in horror to the ship behind her. As she swiveled around to see it, you heard a loud gasp escape her mouth, “That’s a Vox ship, Elizabeth! They found us!!!”

She whipped her head back towards you, fear etched painfully on her young face, “What should we do?! Can we escape them by air?!”

You shook your head, “I doubt it… Neither you nor I know how to really fly this ship. If anything, they will just gun us down if we try to make a break for it… Elizabeth,” you looked up at your friend, your hands balling into tight fists, “…I’m scared.”

Your words made her body quiver, and you knew that she was feeling the exact same way. What could the two of you do in this situation, anyway? Neither of you knew how to fly this ship, nor was it a ship built for combat (as if you and Elizabeth could even manage that, anyway), and if you landed, you were sure to be caught. You viciously chewed at your lip, trying desperately to think of a way to escape. It wasn’t until you tasted blood on your tongue that Elizabeth spoke up.

“(Name)… We have to jump.” Elizabeth’s surprisingly calm voice called out.

Your panicked eyes fell to her face, “… What?”

“It’s our only option, look,” she motioned you over to the window, where, looking down you could see that a part of Columbia had floated up beneath you, leaving just enough room for people to dismount and land without much damage, “if we jump off now we can run and hide somewhere!”

“But what about Booker,” You let your eyes fall back to the wounded man, “If we leave him here the Vox will surely-“

“FORGET ABOUT HIM,” Elizabeth growled, pulling you up forcefully as she ran the both of you to the door, “The Vox have begun to abandon their ship! If we don’t leave now, we’ll get caught by them as well!”

As she finished speaking, she forced the door open with a few mighty shoves. With the door now all the way open, you could clearly see the land beneath you. A cold sweat encompassed your body as the familiar sights and sounds assaulted your senses. 

‘Of course,’ you thought bitterly, staring down in dismay at all the laborers slaving their lives away, ‘We had to end up at Finkton.’

“Come on, (Name), what’re you waiting for?” Elizabeth called beside you. You could feel her growing antsier every second.

You slowly shook your head, “Elizabeth… I can’t.”

She frowned, “What do you mean you can’t?! (Name), the Vox will literally be here any second, just-“

“I SAID I CAN’T,” You screamed at your friend, startling her, “Going back to that place now after being so close to freedom… It’s too cruel, I can’t do it,” your body began to shake,   
“And even though he betrayed us… I… I just can’t abandon him. I can’t leave Booker here to die. Elizabeth, I’m sorry.”

For what seemed like hours, you both stared into each other’s eyes, wondering what would happen next. You never wanted to leave Elizabeth’s side, especially now that you were both so close to true freedom. You could tell she felt the same way, however… This was a matter she would not yield on.

“I see,” she spoke quietly, her voice cold, “If that’s what you choose then I won’t make you follow, but know this, I am getting out of this place, whether you continue to help me or not,” Elizabeth refused to look at you as she prepared herself for jumping, “When Mister Dewitt wakes up, give him my regards.”

“ELIZABETH!” You hoarsely yelled, but it was too late. The girl had already leapt, and you could do nothing but watch on as she landed roughly, grimacing as she pulled herself up, and ran away into a cloud of smoke, obscuring your view of her. Before she disappeared, you noticed the tears that flowed freely down her face, it dawned on you excruciatingly that you were the cause of them. A sharp pain set root in your chest once you realized she was gone, and just as it was the last time you lost her, absolutely nothing felt right in the world.

“Hngh”

Hearing the pained grunt, you whipped your body around, finding Booker coming more and more to. You rushed to his side with urgency. Not only did you WANT Booker to be healed, you also very much NEEDED him to be. He was, after all, your best bet (and possibly only) bet at getting Elizabeth safely back to you.

“Mister Dewitt,” you called softly, running your hand gingerly along his forehead, making sure to avoid his wound, “Please… Wake up! Mister dewitt,” You desperately began to shake him lightly, tears once again obscuring your vision. The more time past, the farther into danger Elizabeth traveled. Your voice came out in broken, shaky sobs, “Booker please… I need you.”

You let your head fall to his chest in defeat, gripping him tightly in a protective hug. How could this have happened now, right when you were all so close? How could the world possibly be so cruel…

“Well, what do we have here?”

A voice behind you jeered, causing your blood to run cold. Your body turned stiff as a board as several heavy sets of footsteps came up behind you, stopping mere inches away from you. You forced yourself to sit up, as sickeningly sweet scent came to your nose. That scent, that voice, even the sound of their steps. You would know it anywhere. It could only be one person.

Agonizingly slow, your body swiveled around, your broken gaze falling on a pair of well-known crystal blue eyes.

“… Seamus.” Your voice creaked, causing him to smirk.

“I’m glad to see you love, you had us all so worried.”

~

A/N: Fun fact, in my absence of writing I forgot Seamus was a thing, so when I came back to edit was like like… What is the garbage man doing here? Why did I create him?! Rubbish! Ah well. We’re stuck with him for the time being…

Anyway, I hope you all thoroughly enjoyed! I know the wait was a doozy, and I promise that now I have my life a little more on track, updates will be coming around more regularly now. I am so so sooooo sorry, again. You are all absolute gems and wonderful people, and thank you so much for the continued reading and support of my works. I love you all, and will see you next time!!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A New Perspective](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362840) by [Claireton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claireton/pseuds/Claireton)




End file.
